On Owl Wings
by paper0wl
Summary: Everyone saw Sirius fall through the Veil. But there have always been stories of those who have ventured to the underworld and returned . . . (Because Sirius was always one of my favorite characters and I never liked how he died.)
1. Chapter 1

Falling –

She was falling. She hadn't let go, but they were both falling. Then the pain struck. And with it, memory. She remembered.

* * *

Amelia didn't know why she'd gone there tonight. She hadn't intended to go, but dinner with her family had ended earlier than expected. It had been nothing but an absent thought, she wasn't on duty, no reason to go.

But she had anyway, and just in time to see Dumbledore leave. With that expression painted on his face, nothing good could be happening. He had half the Ministry after him after that incident at the school – what was Fudge thinking with that whole stunt, anyway, turning a deaf ear on the things he didn't want to hear, Dumbledore's Army, indeed – but he paused, just outside the door, as if he knew she was there. He always seemed to know, even when she wore a Disillusionment Charm, as she did now. "Everyone's _there_," he said, with a particular inflection on the second word. A cold shiver went through her at the implications.

Then he was gone.

Amelia flew. She had no doubt where he meant, where he had gone. She flew as fast as she could, it was quicker than transforming back to human and Apparating would be; it wasn't that far, after all. Owls could be just as fast as they were silent, and she was just going across London.

She ignored the door – it would take too long. She found a crack in a window instead. It wasn't the first time she'd slipped through a tight space as an Animagus owl. She flew down, through the corridors and the twists and the turns. She must have been faster than she'd thought – either that or he had been slower – because Dumbledore hadn't been here long.

And then it didn't matter.

The first flash of red caught her attention, the second her horror. Across the room, he fell, as if in slow motion, surprise replacing the laughter still caught on his face. Amelia saw the path his fall would take and dove, dove down after him, putting everything she had into – just – getting – there – in time –

As he slipped through the Veil, her talons sank into his robes. They might have also sunk into something soft and yielding, but she had other concerns at the moment. Her momentum meant that she too was passing through the Veil.

She was falling – falling –

Amelia tried to Apparate. She'd never tried to Apparate as an Animagus before. Pain seared her skull. There was a reason she hadn't tried. It was difficult to work magic as an Animagus. In all the years she'd been trying, she had been unable to achieve much beyond Disillusionment or Silence, simple enough spells. Nothing nearly so complicated as Apparition.

It hurt, threatened to split her skull with its pounding intensity, but she didn't let go. She wouldn't let go, couldn't, not now –

What was now?

Now –

Now she was standing in a familiar corridor, looking at a familiar scene.

"– LET BLOODTRAITORS AND HALF-BREED CREATURES IN MY HOUSE! FILTH, I TELL YOU! SCUM!" the portrait on the wall wailed shrilly. Tonks was sprawled on the floor of the hallway, face flushed in embarrassment.

Amelia dropped her bag and rushed over to help Sirius close the curtains, silencing his shrieking mother. One of these days they _really _had to find a way to shut her up for good. All this tip-toeing up and down the hallway was getting tiresome.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Tonks exclaimed getting to her feet. "I keep doing that!"

"It's all right," Amelia told her.

"No, it isn't. I wake her up more often than anyone else. I'm dead clumsy."

"It happens." But Amelia wasn't looking at Tonks, she was looking at Sirius. He looked awful. He looked worse than he had that evening she'd found him on the mountainside outside Hogsmeade. Not worse in the traditional sense, he wasn't as thin, or as ragged. But he had been happier than.

This house was a prison, filled with just as many unpleasant memories as Azkaban. Amelia had gone to see him there, more than once. She recognized that look in his eyes. She had to get him out of the house, at least for a few hours. Good thing she had come prepared.

"Reckon you can hold down the fort while we're out, Tonks?" she asked. It was a good thing Molly wasn't around. Today of all days, Amelia didn't believe Sirius should be left alone with his memories.

"Out?" the younger witch repeated. "Where are you going?"

"Yes, Amelia," Sirius said, suddenly looking interested, "where are _we_ going?"

"I thought he wasn't supposed to leave the house," Tonks said curiously.

Amelia shrugged. "I don't believe in house arrest. And I'd pay money to see Lucius and his buddies where we're going." Sirius grinned, but Tonks looked uncertain. "Really, there won't be anyone around who might suspect it's him, Tonks."

"I suppose," she replied with a shrug. Tonks was more open-minded than some of the other members of the Order where rules were concerned. "Just be careful."

"We will," Amelia answered.

"Where are we going?" Sirius asked again.

"You'll see when we get there," Amelia said with a smile. "Transform. You're going as a dog. And you'll need to wear this." She held up a collar. She had bought it on a whim, the slim possibility it might be useful. Walking down the street, she had seen the shop window and the thought had struck her. Seeing his face light up now at the chance to go outside, she was glad she'd gone inside that store.

Sirius was so anxious to leave that he didn't object to the collar. Amelia put her hand on his shoulder and Apparated the two of them away from the confines of his house. The early spring air retained a bit of the nip of winter, making Amelia grateful for her sweater. Padfoot cocked his head at her when he saw where she had taken him.

"What?" she asked. "There aren't going to be any Death Eaters hanging around a Muggle park. Like I said, I'd pay money to see Lucius come here. Now, the name on your collar is 'Malcolm,' so remember to answer to it." He looked at her askance. "It was my grandfather's name." He flicked an ear.

She brandished the Frisbee she took out of her bag, the simple plastic Muggle type, not the Fanged kind found among young wizards. "Be good or I won't throw this for you." Both of his ears went up at that and he barked happily. Amelia smiled. "That's what I thought."

With a flick of her wrist the plastic disc went soaring as surely as if she had bespelled it. Padfoot went chasing gleefully after it. Amelia couldn't keep the grin off her face. She needed to take him here more often. Being cooped up in that house all the time was enough to give even the healthiest mind cabin fever and Sirius had been through more than most. Today – did he pay attention to the date, trapped up in the unpleasant house? Did he realize what day it was?

She threw the Frisbee a few more times before the great black dog lost interest in it and started chasing squirrels instead. Amelia laughed.

Sometime later a park officer passed by. The Muggle did a double take when he saw the bearlike dog. She pretended not to see him as she tossed the Frisbee yet again. The man watched Padfoot race after it barking, and dutifully return it to her for another throw. After she released the disc, the Muggle approached her.

"That's a, er, big dog you have there, ma'am."

"Malcolm? I got him from a friend a few months ago when he got too big for her new apartment. Sarah had adopted him as a puppy from the pound. Neither one of us has any idea what breed he is."

The Muggle was still goggling at the huge dog as it returned with the Frisbee in its mouth. Padfoot dropped the Frisbee on the ground beside her and stiffed him. "Are you sure you can handle a dog that size?" he asked a bit nervously.

"He's no trouble at all. Malcolm, sit, you're worrying Mr. –"

"Uh, Albert Haldren," the man said.

Padfoot obliged by sitting at her feet. "Malcolm, this is Mr. Haldren," Amelia continued. "Shake."

Padfoot offered the man his paw. Amelia was glad the man was too preoccupied to notice the amusement in the dog's eyes.

"Very nice to meet you, er, Malcolm."

Padfoot barked happily, jumped up to lick Mr. Haldren's face, then ran off, scattering pigeons in his wake.

Amelia tried to stifle a giggle. "I'm sorry, Mr. Haldren. He does that sometimes when he meets someone he likes."

"That's quite all right, ma'am," he said with a smile. "He's quite a friendly dog. Is this your first time here? Or just the first time you've been here while I'm on duty?" He shook his head. "I definitely would remember if I'd seen you and, er, Malcolm, before."

"I've been here before, but not recently, and certainly not with Malcolm. We've been busy the last few weeks, and today I finally had the time to take him to the park. I really should have made the time to come sooner, he is much too energetic to stand being cooped up in the house all day."

Padfoot barked his agreement. Haldren turned to stare at the dog, a little startled.

Amelia laughed. "Oh that dog! He always knows when I'm talking about him," she said in amusement. Padfoot barked again.

Haldren checked his watch. "Oh, well, I suppose I should continue my rounds. It was nice meeting you. I hope to see you around again. Have a good day."

"You, too."

Amelia checked her own watch. She gave a whistle. Padfoot came running back. "It's almost dinnertime," she said. "Time to head back." She watched his tail droop. "Don't worry, we can come back another day."

She led him back behind the bathrooms. "Brace yourself," she told him. "Molly isn't going to like this." Then she gave him a conspiratorial wink. "Too bad."

Padfoot barked in agreement.

Checking to make sure no one was watching, Amelia Apparated back to number twelve, Grimmauld Place. As expected, Molly descended the moment they both entered the kitchen.

"What _on earth_ were you thinking? That was completely irresponsible! I would expect as much from him, but _you_, Amelia?"

"I thought he needed to get out of this house before he snapped. We went to the park. A Muggle park. If a Death Eater ever stepped foot in that park, I'll eat my cloak," Amelia answered.

"That doesn't change how irresponsible it was! You are hardly an inconspicuous dog, Sirius! What would the Muggles have thought of you?"

"I chased squirrels and Frisbees. The only Muggle who noticed me was more interested in Amelia than he was with me. He was convinced I was nothing more than a big, friendly dog."

"Friendly?" Kingsley asked, raising his eyebrows.

Sirius grinned. "I was on my best behavior."

Amelia laughed. "That's one way of putting it. Really, Molly, Muggles only see what they expect to see. They saw a dog, at the park, with its owner. If the dog was a bit big, well, at least it was well behaved. Nothing unusual it their minds. I _did_ think it through."

Molly wasn't happy, but Amelia convinced her she knew what she was doing in the end. She even got Molly to grudging agree to let them go out again. The chances of anti-Muggle Death Eaters hanging around a Muggle park were remarkably slim, after all. And since it was only the Order and the Death Eaters who knew Sirius was an Animagus, he'd be safe enough there.

"Thanks," Sirius told her afterwards. "I enjoyed that."

"Good, that was the plan. I couldn't stand to see you brooding around the house, especially – " Amelia broke off awkwardly.

"Today?" Sirius finished. "I know it's James' birthday, Amelia, and I can think of no better way to have spent the day. James would have been the first one to spring me from this place."

"Right, then." How did she respond to that? "Same time, next week?"

"Sounds like a plan to me."

It was rare to see Sirius smile these days. He looked happier than Amelia had seen him in a while.

But – no. This was wrong. This wasn't now. This was – a few months ago? The end of March.

This wasn't right. Amelia froze in the hallway. The smile faded from Sirius' face.

"What's going on?" he asked. "I thought – "

He didn't get to finish his thought. The world rippled around them.


	2. Chapter 2

"Have a good first term, sweetheart! See you at Christmas!"

"Remember to write," Clarissa Zeraff called.

William stood next to his parents, waving in that wild way of eight-year-old boys everywhere.

Amelia waved at her family from the train windows until the station vanished from sight before settling herself in the nearly empty compartment. Suddenly faced with the enormity of being on her own, away from her parents, on her way to magic school, she was far too nervous to speak with the girl sharing the compartment.

To cover up her shyness, Amelia changed into her new robes. The other girl followed her example.

"I'm Frannie Kerris," the girl said.

"Amelia Zeraff," she replied, grateful she didn't have to be the one to talk first.

"Was that boy your brother?"

"William? Yeah. Three years younger than me."

"Oh, that's nice. I don't have any brothers. My sister Margaret is five years older than me. I'm also the youngest in my family. And I do mean the absolute _youngest. _My aunt's _grandson_ is older than me. Nick's two years behind Marge, still three years ahead of me."

"You're lucky you don't have a brother. William can be an absolute _pain_ at times."

Frannie giggled. "Sisters aren't that much better," she confessed. "Especially when they're older and don't want to hang out with their "little tagalong sister" over summer holidays."

"Margaret goes to Hogwarts, too?"

"Yep, everyone in our family comes here. Except one of Mum's cousins, I think, but they moved away."

"Really? My dad's a Muggle. Not Muggleborn, just a Muggle. We think Will takes after his side of the family, because he hasn't shown any signs of magic yet. Mum and Dad were so proud, when they realized _how_ I kept getting into the cookie jar."

The two girls exchanged stories. Amelia felt like she'd found a friend.

"What house do you think you'll be in?" Frannie asked after a while.

"I dunno. I never really thought about it. My Mum was in Hufflepuff."

"Hufflepuff doesn't sound so bad. Nick's there. Margaret's in Ravenclaw, though."

A knock came at the compartment door and it slid open. In the doorway stood a green-eyed girl and a black-haired boy.

"Do you mind if we join you?" the girl asked. "There were a couple of complete _toerags_ in the other compartment, and if we had to sit with them any longer, I swear, I would have _hit_ them."

"It's no problem," Frannie assured them, with a supporting nod from Amelia.

Introductions were made all around and then Lily Evans and Severus Snape took seats on the other side of the compartment.

Amelia turned to look at them as something occurred to her.

The scene jumped forward.

* * *

Amelia was standing in line with the other first-years in the Great Hall, watching the line slowly shrinking. She could feel her cheeks burning when her name was finally called. The problem with alphabetical order, she'd discovered long ago, was that "Zeraff" was almost always the last name to be called. The Sorting was no different.

Amelia was the very last one to put on the Sorting Hat. She had to stand there nervously watching everyone else get Sorted. Frannie went to Ravenclaw. Lily was in Gryffindor with two black-haired boys she had pointed out as the arrogant toerags she'd wanted to smack on the train. Her companion, Severus, had sat down at the Slytherin table.

Finally, it was her turn.

"Zeraff, Amelia."

She stepped forward and let the hat drop over her eyes.

"Hmm," said a little voice in her ear. "You've got a good deal of loyalty, yes, and courage aplenty."

_Courage? _She had courage? She hardly opened her mouth around people she didn't feel comfortable with, which was usually anyone she didn't know well.

"True," the hat whispered, "But the courage is there, nevertheless. Still, you have a great thirst for knowledge. Curiosity in spades, it seems, so the best place for you would be RAVENCLAW!"

With a sense of relief, Amelia pulled the hat off her head and went to sit down next to Frannie.

The feast was excellent. The Headmaster's speech was – eccentric. There was – _something_ – almost familiar about the Headmaster that she couldn't quite put her finger on. As she was leaving the Great Hall with the rest of the new Ravenclaws, one of the "toerags" caught her arm.

"Don't I know you?" the boy asked, a strange expression on his face.

About to shake him off, Amelia stopped. That sense of familiarity was back, and stronger than before. "Sirius?"

"Amelia! What is going on? This – this isn't right. We're not supposed to be here."

At his words, the Great Hall and everything in it faded out. On impulse, Amelia grabbed for his hand before the setting could disappear completely.

* * *

Everything was gray. The gray mist was everywhere. Was every_thing_.

"Where are we, Amelia? I was in the Department of Mysteries and – Harry! He and his friends were there, fighting the Death Eaters! What happened? How'd we get here?" Sirius paused and looked around. "Where is 'here' anyway?"

"I don't really know where we are. But I followed Dumbledore to the Department of Mysteries. I arrived just in time to see one of Bellatrix's curses hit you. I think you might have recovered eventually – if you hadn't been poised to fall through the Veil."

"The Veil? But – how did you get here?" he asked in confusion.

"I dove in after you, tried to get you out. Apparating as an Animagus wasn't one of my more brilliant ideas, I'll admit."

"Apparating as an Animagus? Are you crazy? You're the registered one! You should know that it is next to impossible to work other magic in animal form," Sirius exclaimed.

Amelia shrugged. "I said it wasn't one of my better ideas. I've had good results from Disillusionment and Silencio as an owl, though."

"You would." Sirius shook his head. "So, we fell through the Veil? What does that mean?"

"No idea?" Amelia offered. "What? It isn't like there's a handbook for this sort of thing. _What to do on the Otherside_. I don't think I've ever read anything about someone who'd gone through the Veil. Not alive, anyway."

The expression on his face would have been comical in a different situation. In the gray mist it looked somewhere between grim and confused. "Are we dead?"

Amelia shrugged uncertainly. "Dunno. Don't think so, though. I mean, I think there were a few legends about ancient Greek wizards who'd gone to the Underworld and returned. I haven't read those in _years_, and even then, I never believed them. They were all about wizards who had tried to undo death. You can't undo death. Dead is dead."

"But if we aren't dead, how do we get out of here?"

"I don't know!" She brought her hand up to her forehead. She exhaled in frustration. "Maybe we can find our way back? Somehow?"

"You don't think we're dead?"

"No, I don't think we're dead. I said that already!"

"Then why the memories?" Sirius shifted uncomfortably. "The park and the train? I've heard it said that you see your life when you die. But – I always thought – when I died – James would be there."

"We're not dead." Amelia ran her hands through her hair nervously. "We're not dead, but I'm not sure if we're quite alive either. I think – I think we might be caught in between."

Silence followed her words. The silence was eerie here. The mist was noiseless, but the silence seemed to echo.

Amelia shivered. She was just imagining it, surely.

"What happened to you on the train?" she asked to distract herself.

"_Slytherin?" _a voice in the gray mist said scornfully. _"Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"_

Amelia spun around, trying to locate the source of the voice. There was only mist. Sirius had gone rigid, his face pale.

"_My whole family have been in Slytherin,"_ a second voice replied unhappily.

It was with a start that Amelia recognized that voice. She had heard it not long before, in the Great Hall. She turned to face Sirius.

"_Blimey, and I thought you seemed all right!" _ the first voice said. Amelia was able to recognize this speaker as James.

"_Maybe I'll break tradition," _mist-Sirius said, a hopeful grin evident in his tone. _"Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"_

"_Gryffindor," _mist-James said loftily, _"'where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad."_

A small, disparaging noise issued from the mist.

"_Got a problem with that?" _mist-James demanded.

"_No,"_ a new voice said with a sneer. Was that Severus?It sounded like him. _"If you'd rather be brawny than brainy –" _

"_Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" _interrupted mist-Sirius as mist-James laughed.

"_Comes on, Severus, let's find another compartment,"_ a girl's voice said. Lily.

"_Ooooo . . . " _mist-Sirius and mist-James imitated loftily. There was the sound of a scuffle as someone stumbled and more laughter.

"_See ya, Snivellus!" _mist-James called before the sound of a compartment door slamming emerged from the gray depths, cutting off mist-Sirius' laughter.

Amelia stared at the gray mists in surprise. What was this place? She shook herself. "I take it that's what happened to you?"

"Y-yes," Sirius replied.

"They came into my compartment after that," she said somewhat distractedly.

"_Do you mind if we join you?" _the voice of mist-Lily asked_. "There were a couple of complete _toerags _in the other compartment, and if we had to sit with them any longer, I swear, I would have _hit _them."_

"What the hell is this?" Sirius asked. "Some sort of Pensieve?"

"Maybe . . . but then why are we reliving the past instead of just remembering it? Pensieves don't operate that way." Amelia wasn't used to being so clueless

"You're right. And the scene changes when we realize it's a memory."

As if his words had been an invitation, the mist rippled.

"Dammit! Bloody he – " Sirius began. The mists fell over them, swallowing the rest of his words.

* * *

"It's the only way," James pleaded.

"What about Frank and Alice?" Lily asked.

"They are lying low as well, but Dumbledore didn't think they needed such measures."

"Why us? Why Harry? He's only a little boy! What could Voldemort possibly want from him?" Lily asked on the verge of tears. None of the people gathered in the kitchen flinched at the name.

James took her into his arms. "I don't know, love. But I trust Dumbledore. If he thinks this is the best way, then I believe him."

"I do too," Lily agreed tearfully, "but I _hate _this. It's been over a year now and we _still_ don't know where the leak is! I hate not knowing who to trust!"

"Meya," Harry proclaimed proudly. Amelia shifted the boy in her arms.

Lily turned toward her, a hint of a smile of her face. "Yes, Harry, we trust Amelia." She pushed the hair back from her son's eyes.

"Siwis," the boy said.

James laughed. He came over and plucked Harry from Amelia's arms. "And we most definitely trust Sirius."

The man in question put down the pumpkin he was carving and laughed. "I should _hope_ you trust me, James. There's more than a few embarrassing tales I've refrained from telling your lovely wife about you."

James smiled. "I know, Sirius. That's why we wanted to ask you to be our Secret-Keeper."

Sirius looked to be more resigned than surprised. "Of course, James. I wish it hadn't come to this, but – you know. Best man, and all that. If you're going to do this, I certainly am not about to let you do it alone."

An awkward silence descended upon the kitchen.

"How long?" Amelia asked past the lump forming in her throat.

"Another week or so to make sure we're ready – and then however long it takes for him to stop hunting us," James said grimly.

"Daa saad?" baby Harry asked.

"Of course not," James replied in a determinedly cheerful voice. He kissed his son's forehead, causing Harry to coo and flail.

Lily stepped in to rescue her son from his father. "If you get a chance, Amelia, stop in with Sirius and pay us a visit. I'm sure Harry would appreciate his favorite babysitter."

Amelia knew her smile didn't entirely diminish the worry in her eyes. "You mean you'll be bored sick of being stuck in this house after a few weeks on your own?"

"Well – there is that," Lily admitted.

James smirked. "You don't take confinement well, do you, sweetheart? She nearly drove me mad when she couldn't leave the house during her pregnancy."

Sirius snickered. "Drove _you_ mad? She was sending me owls three times a day! Kept alternating between telling me to keep you safe to wanting me to send you home immediately to demanding to be allowed out on a mission herself!"

"That's nothing on what she was sending _me!"_ Amelia exclaimed. "She kept asking me to send her the most _absurd_ things! I'm _glad_ I never got married. The things pregnant women crave! Tea and pumpkin pasties, pickled toad and sausage, Fizzing Whizbees and butterbeer – all on the same day! I have to say, though, I think the chocolate-covered brussel sprouts might have been the most amusing. And Alice wasn't much better! But at least she wasn't bothering _me_ with all her fancies!"

James' cough sounded suspiciously like laughter. "No, Alice had to go through Augusta. Talk about a monster-in-law."

"I was not that bad!" Lily indignantly exclaimed. "I did not send you three owls a day! Not _every_ day at least."

"No," Amelia agreed with a straight face. "Some days you wouldn't send three owls, some days you would use more Floo powder than I went through in a month." One look at Sirius' face and the two of them burst out laughing. After a moment James joined in. Eventually Lily gave in and had a few laughs herself.

"I suppose I might have done that," Lily admitted amidst the laughter.

Something _clicked_ in Amelia's head. Tears started rolling down her cheeks, blurring her vision of the kitchen and its occupants. A pair of hands reached for her, offering her a shoulder to cry on.

"This was the last time you saw them, wasn't it?" a voice murmured in her ear.

"Yes," she told Sirius in a small voice. She tried to refocus on the scene. To her astonishment she saw she had moved. She and Sirius were now in the doorway, watching younger versions of themselves conversing with the Potters. _Now _it was similar to a Pensieve memory.

"I was with them most of this week," Sirius said. "Did you know Dumbledore himself offered to be their Secret-Keeper? James turned him down, said he'd prefer me instead. And what did I do? Convinced them to put their lives in the hands of that – lying little rat! I thought I was so brilliant, thought it was the perfect plan, the perfect decoy. I killed them. I killed them as surely as if I had been the one that betrayed them to Voldemort."

Sirius looked with anguish upon the group in the kitchen.

"I remember," Amelia said, trying to pull herself together.

Sirius gave a mirthless chuckle. "That's right. Little ex-Auror Amelia, sneaking into Azkaban to break into my head."

"You would have died if I hadn't come. You were locked inside your worst memories." It still haunted her. What she had seen in his mind. Their house – the bodies –

"What will they do?"

"What?"

"What will they do?" Sirius repeated. "Harry and Dumbledore and the Order? They surely think we're dead, mustn't they?"

"I guess . . ." There was no way to tell time, no way to know how long they'd been here. "If they think you're dead – and at the very least you're not in that world – what happens to headquarters? Your house, I mean."

Sirius surprised her by grinning darkly. "Family tradition be damned. I'm the last Black. Technically the heir would be Bellatrix, I think – "

"What?! No!" Amelia exclaimed. "She's the one that almost killed you!"

Sirius gave a dark chuckle. "I left everything to Harry."

"Harry?"

"Yep. Take that Mrs. Walburga Black. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black passed to the one who brought about the downfall of your precious 'Dark Lord.'" He laughed sinisterly.

"You know that's seriously creepy, right?"

"'Sirius'-ly?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Amelia punched his shoulder, just as the world turned gray again.


	3. Chapter 3

"This is getting ridiculous," Amelia complained as she laid the _Daily Prophet_ on the kitchen table.

"What's getting ridiculous?" her mother asked, walking over to look at the newspaper. On the stove, a spatula flipped eggs on its own.

"This," she exclaimed, pointing at an obituary. A picture of a dour witch shifted uncomfortably on the page. "Professor Morryxa. The problem with Defense Against the Dark Arts professors is that they seem to get themselves killed so frequently. We've had five professors in five years and I need my N.E.W.T. to become an Auror!"

"They've all _died_?" William exclaimed. "That's _cool!_" Clarissa turned to glare at her son. "I meant creepy. It's creepy," the boy said hastily.

"Why do your professors keep dying?" Zachary Zeraff asked, faintly alarmed.

"They're too _good_ at Defense Against the Dark Arts," Amelia answered gloomily.

Her father looked confused. "How is that bad? How is being a good professor something that will get someone killed? I don't understand."

"The Death Eaters target them," Clarissa explained to her husband.

"Oh. _Oh. _Uh, I know we've discussed this before, but are you absolutely _sure_ that that school is safe?"

Her mother gave a wry smile. "As I've told you before, Hogwarts is the safest place our daughter could be. As long as Albus Dumbledore is Headmaster, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named won't come anywhere near the place." Clarissa scooped the eggs onto a plate and set it on the table. "Amelia is as safe there as it is possible to be these days."

"I'll trust your opinion on that, love," Zachary replied. Clarissa smiled, leaned over and kissed her husband.

"_Eew_, Mum, Dad. Why do you have to do that where people can see you?" William asked, making a face.

Amelia snorted. "Grow up, Will. Just wait till you hit puberty."

"Why would I want to do that? Girls are gross. I'd rather be a kid _forever_," he proclaimed.

"You do that," Amelia retorted. "_I'm_ going to be an Auror in a few years."

"Amelia dear, are you _certain_ you want to be an Auror?" Clarissa pressed.

"Yes," Amelia replied promptly. "And Professor Flitwick says I would be good at it."

"You would be good at whatever you put your mind too, Amelia. But being an Auror – it is very dangerous, especially these days."

"_Everything_ is dangerous these days, Mum," Amelia said rolling her eyes.

"I'm a witch and I am perfectly content working in the Muggle world," Clarissa continued.

"That's because you only got an A in Defense Against the Dark Arts and couldn't go into Healing like you wanted to. I don't know how you can stand working in the Muggle hospital, that place is _miserable_."

"Patients in my ward recover much faster than they would ordinarily," Clarissa told her daughter. "As a nurse at a Muggle hospital, I don't need to have an E on my Defense Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T. No one arrives at a Muggle hospital with dangerous curses that the nurses need to worry about."

"I should hope not," Zachary remarked.

Clarissa motioned as if to say _exactly my point_. But what she said instead was, "And Amelia, you had an O on that O.W.L., even with all the discontinuities in the teaching. So, I do not believe you will have too much trouble with your N.E.W.T. But really, with all the professors dying, surely you can see how dangerous becoming an Auror would be. Won't you at least _consider_ something else?"

"I _have_ considered, and I want to be an Auror. Dad's a police officer, why can't I be an Auror?" Amelia demanded.

"Chasing burglars with guns is a far cry from chasing Death Eaters with dark magic," her mother countered vehemently.

"So? It's what I want. Frannie, Alice and I are all planning to become Aurors once we graduate. It's better than hiding in fear. At least this way we won't just be sitting around doing nothing useful, waiting for the Death Eaters to come after us anyway!"

"You are half-blood, Amelia, I highly doubt they will come after you," her mother retorted.

"Isn't that nice. But unless Aurors fight them, the Death Eaters will gain ground and expand their target audience. Seeing as I will join them when hell freezes over, and I _highly doubt_ I'll be willing to sit silent while they target innocent people, they'll come after me eventually. I'd much rather be trained when I meet them."

Breakfast continued in subdued silence after that. The clang of the metal silverware on the china plates was enough to set Amelia's already stretched nerves on edge.

"May I be excused?" Amelia asked as politely as she could manage as soon as she finished. "I want to finish my letter to Frannie. I _am_ still allowed to visit Italy with her and her family before September, right?"

"Of course," said her mother quickly.

Amelia left the room before they could argue about anything else. Halfway to the stairs she whirled on the figure in the hallway. "What have I said about following me, William?" she snapped, before it dawned on her the man had hair too dark and long to be her brother. She had her wand out and raised before she recognized the man.

"Interesting family," Sirius commented dryly.

"I could say the same about yours," she replied automatically. Amelia paused for moment, realizing she had never met any his family. Not counting the crazed portrait of his mother. Who wouldn't die for another eight years after the argument that had just taken place in the kitchen.

The hallway rippled around them.

* * *

"_I think that will do, Harry."_

* * *

People in every shape and color every shape and color were scurrying up and down the bustling street. A low, soft hooting came from behind Amelia. She turned to find herself standing in front of Eeylops Owl Emporium. Unlike the previous memories, Amelia knew perfectly well that she did not belong in the scene.

"So, this is one of Sirius' memories?" she said, more to herself than the witches and wizards passing by oblivious to her presence.

"Sirius Orion Black!" an uptight, prim, black-haired woman snapped. "Stop staring at the broomsticks! First-year students are prohibited from bringing a broom of their own and even if you were allowed, why would I buy you one, with that outrageous attitude of yours!"

Walburga was a well-dressed woman who carried herself with an air of self-importance. The eleven-year-old boy she was addressing reluctantly pulled himself away from the new Cleansweep model in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies. A slightly younger black-haired boy followed Sirius as they continued down the street.

"I can't wait until I start Hogwarts next year," the younger boy said excitedly. Amelia decided this must by Regulus. "Another two years and I can have my own broom. Are you going to try out for Quidditch next year, Sirius?"

"Probably," Sirius said, his customary grin making an appearance. "I reckon I might like to be a Beater."

"I hope I make the team," Regulus continued, hopefully.

"If the captain is fool enough not to let you play, I'll hex him," Sirius assured his brother.

"Hurry up!" their mother yelled. "Or do you not need a wand, Sirius?"

Amelia followed the trio of Blacks into Ollivander's tiny shop. Regulus stared in amazement at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly to the ceiling while Walburga settled herself regally on the single spindly chair – after looking upon it in disdain first.

"Good afternoon," Mr. Ollivander said in a soft voice, appearing from the depths of his shop. "Mrs. Walburga Black, it has been a while. Aspen, nine and a quarter inches, rather rigid, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Mrs. Black answered, deigning to reply.

"And you must be young Sirius." Ollivander pulled his long tape measure from his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"My right arm," Sirius replied, much politer to the wandmaker than he was to his mother.

"Hold out your arm please. Good, good." Mr. Ollivander took a few measurements with his silver-marked tape before leaving it to finish as he selected boxes from the shelves.

"That will do," he said, returning. "Now then, try this one. Blackthorn and unicorn hair, ten inches. Rather bendy."

Amelia watched Sirius give the wand a wave. Nothing happened. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand immediately.

"Right then. Try this, cedar and phoenix feather. Eight and a half inches, quite stiff."

Sirius barely lifted the wand before Ollivander grabbed it back.

"No, no, that won't do. Try this one, spruce and dragon heartstring, thirteen and three quarter inches, nice and flexible."

Ollivander snatched three more wands from Sirius before the boy produced silver sparks from "ebony and dragon heartstring, twelve and a quarter inches, whippy."

Amelia found herself clapping with Mr. Ollivander as the wandmaker cried, "Ah, excellent!"

Sirius turned to look at her. "I know you," he said. "What type of wand chose you?"

The store shifted.

* * *

"Clarissa Zeraff, it seems just yesterday you were in here. Willow and phoenix feather, ten inches, I believe?"

"Correct as always, Mr. Ollivander."

"And this would be your daughter, then. Welcome, Amelia, welcome. Which is your wand arm?" Ollivander asked, pulling out a tape measure with silver markings.

"I'm left-handed," Amelia replied, trying not to look into his unblinking silver eyes. She found it creepy that he didn't blink.

"Ah," Mr. Ollivander commented, before removing narrow boxes from the vast assortment on the shelves.

"Try aspen and dragon heartstring, nine inches, rather bendy."

Amelia gave it a wave. She jumped when the wandmaker snatched it out of her hand.

"No, no, definitely not. Here, cypress and phoenix feather, ten and a half inches, sturdy."

Again she waved the wand, and again Ollivander snatched it back.

"Right then, try beech and dragon heartstring, twelve inches, quite whippy."

Ollivander wasted no time removing the wand from her hand.

"Not quite there yet. Hmm. Try this one. Larch and unicorn hair, eleven and a half inches, slightly springy."

The wand felt warm in Amelia's hand, so she wasn't altogether startled when waving it produced a stream of blue and gold sparks. William whooped in delight at the firework effect.

"They snapped my wand," the fifth person in the small room remarked. Amelia looked over, but no one else seemed to have heard him. "When I was brought to Azkaban. I was using my father's old chestnut wand recently, but I think I dropped it when we fell."

"You dropped it?" Amelia repeated. She reached for the pocket in her sleeve, surprised to find her wand there. Suddenly she wasn't eleven anymore.

"Reggie had a chestnut as well."

"Your brother?" She turned to Sirius, but he wasn't looking at her; he was watching William pull on young Amelia's hair as their mother paid for the wand. "I've never heard you talk about your brother. Were you close?"

"When we were children." He gave a half-hearted shrug. "But he was soft enough to believe my parents and their pure-blood mania. Regulus went to Slytherin like the rest of the lot. Stupid idiot. He joined the Death Eaters. Then he was fool enough to try to back out and Voldemort had him killed."

"You didn't – talk to him?" William was a Muggle, always had been a Muggle, had married a Muggle, but Amelia had stayed reasonably close with her brother, even while away at Hogwarts.

"What was there to talk about?" Sirius said scornfully. "As I was constantly reminded by my oh-so-loving parents, Regulus was a much better son, and a much better Black. He was in Slytherin, after all. I was in Gryffindor. We didn't talk much after that. After I ran away from home, it became a moot point. James and his parents were much more like a family to me than my own ever was."

"I don't think I ever heard that story."

"You wouldn't've," said Sirius with a shrug, still watching the two Zeraff children as Clarissa herded them out of the shop. "You only really hung around us in the Order, after Hogwarts, and by then I already had my own place. Uncle Alphard left me a decent bit of gold."

"_There I am."_

Amelia's head snapped up. "That sounds like Dumbledore."

"_Nice suit, sir."_

Sirius spun around. "And that was Harry."

They could hear someone chuckle distantly as the scene grayed out again.


	4. Chapter 4

No one in the village paid any attention to the owl. Owls were hardly unusual after all, even owls carrying packages. If the owl was on the smallish side and the package a bit larger – well, the owl didn't appear to be struggling with its burden. For the most part the barn owl was ignored as it flew past the village. That is not to say the owl was not noticed, it just was not remarked upon. Owls were common occurrences in the wizarding world, after all. It was one of the reasons why Amelia was glad her Animagus form was an owl.

Had someone seen the little owl alighting on the rocky ground near the great black stray that had recently taken up residence in the area, perhaps they might have become a bit curious. There was no one for some distance, however, so the occasion went unnoticed.

The shaggy dog eagerly sniffed the package the owl had borne. It laid its ears back against its head and growled though, a moment later, when the owl turned into a willowy middle-aged woman. She was slightly shorter than average, with bright brown eyes and light brown hair that was cut short, the tips barely brushing the shoulders of her faded bronze robes.

Amelia appeared unconcerned by the huge menacing dog that stood practically within arm's reach.

"Don't look at me like that," she admonished.

The dog looked surprised.

"Yes, I know that's you."

Ears flattened, the dog growled with even more intensity than before.

"What? Do you really think I came to try to catch you and turn you in?"

The growling picked up a notch.

Amelia let out a huff of exasperation. "Please. Give me a little credit. I was in Ravenclaw, after all. I prefer to do my thinking _before_ I go off doing something, rather than after the fact. It's served me well over the years."

The bearlike dog ceased its growling, but it still didn't look happily upon the slender witch.

"I had a hell of a time finding you, by the way. Which is all well and good, I suppose. I knew you had to be somewhere nearby, what with that right mess going on and your godson smack in the middle. I had to follow him, eventually. I couldn't find you anyway else."

The dog showed her its teeth.

Amelia merely raised an eyebrow. "You have a half-decent mind as well, as I recall. Quite useful for getting yourself into and out of all sorts of trouble. I believe you even pulled off acceptable grades for all your fooling around. Unless of course all the years in prison addled your head. In which case I will have to prod it awake for you. Think, would you. How many owls do you suppose there are that visit Azkaban? Bearing gifts nonetheless."

The dog's ears snapped up in surprise at that.

"Feathers aren't the only thing I've learned since then, _Padfoot_. I know what happened. It's a stupid rat that runs with snakes."

The dog narrowed its eyes at her. It looked from her to the package and back. Then it nodded once before turning and picking a path along the mountainside. Amelia picked up the package and followed. Upon entering the dimly lit cave, she stopped short.

There, tethered at the end of the cave, was a hippogriff, half gray horse, half giant eagle. Careful not to break eye contact, she bowed to the creature. The hippogriff regarded her imperiously. After a long, tense moment, its scaly front knees bent and she was able to draw her gaze off of its orange eyes and toward the shaggy black dog next to it.

"Buckbeak?" she asked with a hint of a smile. "I should have known."

The dog was gone. In its place was an unkempt, gaunt man wearing ragged gray robes. "I've found that he's a good judge of character," he said evenly. "No one cares to argue with a hippogriff." He watched her. "What are you doing here, Amelia?"

She tossed him the package. "Been spending some time up at the Hogwarts Owlery. Heard you might be hungry. I thought you could use some food. Seems I was right."

"That isn't what I mean. When did you become an Animagus?"

"After it became as useful, I'm afraid," she replied, seating herself casually on the ground. He looked at her blankly. "Owls are as common as dirt, and far less noticeable than giant, black dogs. You became an Animagus to run around with werewolves; I became one for – equally clandestine purposes. The worst of it was already over by the time I'd succeeded, so it wasn't as effective as I would have liked."

"So you're a spy?" he asked pointedly.

"I was in the Order, same as you."

"I thought you were an Auror." The carefully bland tone of his voice spoke almost as much as his words.

"I was. For a few years anyway. I couldn't take it after a while, though. Too many memories, many of them unpleasant. Books were always my preferred refuge in the end."

"Stop avoiding the question," he snapped.

"What question?" she said innocently.

"I am an infamous, wanted murderer. Why are you here?"

"Infamous and wanted, yes. But hardly a murderer." Amelia met his shadowed grey eyes. "I was a Ravenclaw, as I've already reminded you; we value knowledge. When we have two seemingly contradictory facts, we like to find out what is wrong. The Sirius I knew would sooner have hexed himself – or gone home – than betray James. It took me a few years, but I eventually flew out there to get some answers." She paused. "I know Legilimency." His eyebrows shot up toward his very untidy hair. She shrugged. "I had the better part of a decade with nothing better to do."

"So, an ex-Auror snuck into Azkaban to use Legilimency on me?"

"Yes," she said, managing to infuse the single syllable with a good deal of awkwardness.

"Was this a planned excursion?" He did not know what to make of her. Amelia could hear it in his voice.

She shook her head. "Hardly. Halloween six years later I suddenly had to _know_ what had happened, I had to understand. Before I knew it I was on my way. I spent most of the journey trying to decide what I was doing and what I intended to do. When I arrived, you – you were trapped in your nightmares. I went in to try to release you from the confines of your mind and ended up learning most of what had happened."

"That night – when I first saw the owl in my cell – you'd been in my head? That was you in my head?" he demanded harshly.

"I hadn't intended it to go as it did, but yes, that was me. I was glad I'd stuck a chocolate bar in my pocket before I'd gotten the notion to go dropping by. Even with the rather unorthodox mental intrusion, it took several pieces of chocolate to get you to respond. I had gone to learn why one of my friends had betrayed another, not to let you waste away and die. And you would have."

He stared at her. "I thought it had all been in my head, the memory, the nightmare, the vision of you. I woke up to find there was owl next to me who had brought me a bar of chocolate. Thought I'd finally gone mad. Who would defy the Ministry to send chocolate to me, the infamous Sirius Black? Any friends I had – before – would've thought I'd betrayed them. Sending _curses_, maybe, but not chocolate."

Amelia said nothing.

"The owl left, but the chocolate was still there. It – you – came back every few months with another bar. No note or anything else, just a bar of chocolate." Sirius studied her. "I found the whole thing to be rather confusing, and therefore, not quite happy. I suppose that was the purpose? Because the dementors would have taken the happy memory from me."

"I – I knew what had happened, the whole story, or at least enough pieces to see the story – the switch with the Fidelius Charm, the confrontation on the street, becoming Animagi. What was James' Animagus anyway?"

"A stag," Sirius replied absently, still staring at her intently.

"A stag. Huh, _Prongs_. Well, I knew all that and there was nothing I could do with it. There was no proof, just your memories, your word, and not a Muggle's chance in Slytherin that the Ministry would accept that."

"So you smuggled chocolate into Azkaban."

She nodded.

"Your family always was unconventional," he said with a bark of laughter. "Your brother never developed any magic, did he?"

"No. He takes after our father, I'm afraid. I don't think my grandparents were too happy about that, hadn't been too keen on my mum marrying a Muggle in the first place, but they got over it eventually. My niece, though, I expect she'll be at Hogwarts in a few years. Bit of a shock for Sarah, it was. She'd had no idea she had married a half-blood Muggle. Thought her mother-in-law was a bit of an eccentric, but no idea Clarissa was a witch. We had to tell her when little Heather started levitating her toys. To give Sarah credit, though, she's taken it all in stride. Even when she found out I was an Animagus because she wanted to know why her seven-year-old daughter had named her stuffed owl after me." She chuckled. "Cute kid." Then she turned serious. "How's Harry doing?"

"Not too shabby, considering he's underage. Two Tasks in, and if anything, he's ahead. James and Lily would be proud of him." Sirius held up her package. "Since you're here as a friend, can I assume this is safe to eat?"

"Yes," she said, smothering a smile.

"Good." He fell upon her gift of food like a ravenous wolf – or a starving dog.

"You're happier here," Amelia remarked.

"Hmm?"

"You are happier here than you are at Grimmauld Place."

"Of course. I couldn't wait to get away from that house. And Dumbledore wants me to stay inside and keep my head down? It's a wonder I haven't gone _mad_ yet."

"And you weren't mad already?"

Amelia stopped abruptly and met Sirius' eyes. Sirius looked as taken aback by his outburst as she felt. He blinked and shook his head. They had separated from their memory-selves. "These memories are messing with my head," said Sirius.

"Of course. I can't tell if I'm here or – or _there._ You heard Harry and Dumbledore, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"He said 'there I am.' There I am. Why would he point out _himself_?"

"With a suit." Sirius paused. "Why would Dumbledore have a suit? What _is_ a suit?"

"A suit is the Muggle version of dress-robes. If he was wearing a suit, he would have been traveling in the Muggle world. But why would he be traveling with Harry? And why point out himself? Unless . . . " Amelia's eyes widened. "Unless there were two of him." She pointed excitedly at the two people in the cave. "There I am. And there you are. It's a memory; our memory. There are two of each of us here. It's like you said, it's some sort of Pensieve." She could see it, the outline of the puzzle they were trying to solve. The pieces were starting to fall into place.

Sirius caught on. "You're saying that what we heard was Harry and Dumbledore using a Pensieve? But surely there have to be hundreds of Pensieves in Britain, why did we only hear them?"

"We heard them before. 'I think that will do, Harry.' Two memories, at least two. Both times, Harry and Dumbledore. Why Harry and Dumbledore?" She looked up. "You said you left Grimmauld Place to Harry; he is your godson – you are connected to him. You broke ties with your family; Harry is the closest thing you _have_ to family. My mum doesn't use a Pensieve. Harry wouldn't use one on his own, someone would have to take him into it and who is the only person who would do that? Dumbledore. We can hear them when they speak within the Pensieve."

"What good does that do us? We're still stuck here!"

"Why are we stuck here? _Think._ We came through the Veil alive, so we can get out, but we have to _find_ our way out. You said that, too. This place, these memories, it's messing with our heads. We are snapping back and forth between past and present, and we can't tell what is which. We're trapped – and – and – and this – it's like a maze." It all made perfect sense to her now. "We have to find our way back to the world we left, but we can't even see the where we are going."

"So, Harry is what? Our lifeline?" Sirius hazarded.

"Some sort of anchor, I'd say. Memory anchors us. It traps us here, but it anchors us in the other world as well. And the Pensieve is the bridge. When Harry used the Pensieve, we have a solid connection between that world and this world of memory. If we can trace that connection, we can get out of here."

"So we have to hope Harry uses the Pensieve a good lot, then, you reckon? And what do we do in the meantime?"

"Try to navigate our memories. We still have to get through the maze, after all."

The cave around them dissolved into grey mist.


	5. Chapter 5

"You look absolutely _wonderful_, Lily!" Emmeline Vance exclaimed.

"The ceremony was lovely!" said Marlene McKinnon.

"It was, wasn't it?" Lily said, a happy smile on her smile.

"Of course, _Mrs. Potter_," Mary Macdonald teased.

"Whatever happened to the arrogant toerag you wanted to smack so much?" Amelia chimed in.

"Evidently he grew up," Alice replied, "And he grew up quite handsome, too, I might add."

"Oh, Alice!" Amelia exclaimed, giving her friend a light shove. "You have no right to moon over James Potter's unruly hair when you caught quite a fine young man yourself! Where is Frank, by the way?"

"Over there talking with the groom and best man."

"Sirius looks so _strange_ with short hair," Marlene remarked.

"Doesn't he? Five galleons says he grows it out by the end of the month!"

"The month? Really, Emmeline, that's giving him too much patience. It'll be long again in a week at most," Lily said assuredly. "James had the hardest time convincing him to cut it in the first place for the wedding."

"Who was the flower girl?" Amelia asked.

"The little girl with the pink hair?" said Marlene. "She was _adorable!"_

"Especially when she tripped on the hem of her gown and the flower petals went everywhere," Mary added with a giggle.

"That was Nymphadora, Andromeda's daughter."

"Andromeda Black? Didn't her family disown her for marrying a Muggleborn? Ted Tonks, wasn't it?" inquired Alice.

Lily laughed. "Yes, and yes, the Blacks did disown her. That's the reason she is one of the only members of his family that Sirius is still on friendly terms with."

"Don't you have a sister?" Mary asked. "Why didn't she come?"

"Petunia and her husband don't really like 'my kind,'" Lily answered, her smile fading slightly.

"Well it's a good thing they didn't come, then!" Amelia said decisively. "Now they can't mar your special day."

"It would have been nice to have someone from my family here, though," said Lily a little wistfully.

"That's right, your parents are dead, aren't they?" Marlene noted.

"Yes, my father over the summer, shortly after graduation, and my mother two years ago."

"And your sister _really _couldn't come, if just for the ceremony?" Emmeline pressed. "She wouldn't have needed to stay for the reception!"

"Her husband, Vernon, doesn't particularly _like_ James," said Lily. "Vernon is – very much a Muggle. He was – very fond of his car – and when James said he had a racing broom instead of a car – well, _I _thought it was amusing, but Vernon couldn't tell if James was mocking him or not. Vernon and Petunia stormed out and have been avoiding me ever since."

"Did she really not want her own sister to be a bridesmaid?" Amelia asked in amazement.

"Nope, and then Vernon had the nerve to call me an 'amateur magician' at their reception." James sniffed for effect. "I am _hardly_ an amateur. I would consider myself something of an expert."

"That would be a fair estimate, I'd say, mate," Sirius replied with a grin, coming over.

"Anyway, may I steal my wife for the first dance?" With a giggle, the gaggle of witches released the new Mrs. Potter before breaking up to find their own dance partners.

Over the next few hours, Amelia felt she must have danced with every man at the reception, including James' elderly father. Stopping for a glass of pumpkin juice, she noted, "You really _did_ look strange with your hair short."

Sirius' laugh was cut off by the encroaching mist.

* * *

A distinctly odd procession of people made their way down a tunnel. Ahead of Harry, Sirius, and Hermione, Severus floated along, his lolling head repeatedly bumping against the low ceiling. In front of the unconscious Potions Professor there appeared to be an unusual mass of limbs, which Amelia realized must be Ron, Remus, and Pettigrew. This, therefore, was the night Sirius had almost received his sentenced Kiss from the dementors.

"You know what this means?" Sirius asked Harry as they made their slow progress along the tunnel. Amelia had never been in the tunnel between the Shrieking Shack the Whomping Willow, though she had heard of it. "Turning Pettigrew in?"

"You're free," Harry said.

"Yes . . ." Sirius replied. "But I'm also – I don't know if anyone ever told you – I'm your godfather."

"Yeah, I knew that," Harry answered. When did he learn that, Amelia wondered. Everyone around him thought Sirius was trying to kill him; they hardly would informed Harry the madman after him was his godfather.

"Well . . . your parents appointed me your guardian," Sirius said stiffly. "If anything happened to them . . . I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle. But . . .well . . . think about it. Once my name's cleared . . . if you wanted a . . . a different home . . ."

Amelia felt a lump rising in her throat. His name had never been cleared and he'd eventually been reduced to remaining inside a house he loathed as much as the memories it held.

"What – live with you?" Harry asked, accidentally cracking his head on the ceiling. "Leave the Dursleys?"

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," Sirius said quickly. "I understand, I just thought I'd – "

"Are you insane?" Harry croaked. Amelia smothered a laugh. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

Sirius turned around to look at Harry, uncaring of the fact that Severus' head was scraping the ceiling in his surprise. Well, it was at least _partly_ due to his astonishment. He had never gotten along with the Slytherin when they'd been at Hogwarts together. "You want to?" he asked. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it!" Harry exclaimed. Knowing what she did about the Dursleys, it was no wonder the boy looked so excited.

Sirius' gaunt face broke into what was perhaps the first true smile he'd had since the deaths of James and Lily. It made a remarkable difference, showing there was still some part of the teenaged Sirius beneath the hardened, half-starved visage.

They didn't speak again until they clambered out of the passageway.

"One false move, Peter," Remus threatened as they tramped through the grounds.

A cloud shifted overhead, bathing the party in moonlight and Amelia watched everything go wrong. Remus changed into a werewolf, Sirius transformed into a dog to keep him away from the children. Pettigrew dived to the ground, Stunning Ron and Hermione's cat before turning into a rat and disappearing into the night. The werewolf ran toward the Forbidden Forest, the black dog ran after him, wounded – and then the dementors came.

Even knowing everything turned out okay, Amelia watched in horror as the dementors closed in around Sirius, Harry, and Hermione. Sirius collapsed under the renewed attentions of the foul creatures and his memory went dark.

* * *

Amelia came to in a room she had seen many times during her years at Hogwarts: Professor Flitwick's office. She listened to Sirius tell his tale to Dumbledore – the last request of a condemned man. He _knew_ there was no way out, but he wanted Dumbledore to know the truth before his sentence was carried out.

Thankfully, Dumbledore was a cannier fellow than anyone could have expected.

Sirius sat there, alone in the room at the time, believing he was about to be Kissed by the dementors that had tormented him for twelve years. What must it have been like, Amelia wondered, to be faced with such a bleak end when he had believed, only an hour before, that his future was bright? He had caught a glimpse of the light at the end of a very dark tunnel, only to have it snatched from his grasp by a fleeing rat.

There was a sharp tap on the window. Sirius looked up and Amelia watched the nearly miraculous transformation of his face. The almost accepting, despondent expression replaced by disbelief that gave way to the hope he surely had thought lost. His jaw dropped in amazement and he sprang from the chair to the window, only to find it looked.

"Stand back!" Hermione called from outside. "_Alohomora!"_

The window sprang open.

"How – how – ?" Sirius said weakly, staring at Harry and Hermione, aloft on a hippogriff he would come to know so well.

"Get on – there's not much time," Harry said. "You've got to get out of here – the dementors are coming – Macnair's gone to get them."

It was lucky Sirius was so thin, for he had little difficulty heaving himself out of the window frame and pulling himself onto the back of the hippogriff behind Hermione.

"Okay, Buckbeak, up!" Harry said, shaking the rope he had tied around Buckbeak's neck like reins. "Up to the tower – come on!"

The hippogriff gave a sweep of its mighty wings and they were soaring upward again, to the top of the West tower, Amelia pulled along with them. With a clatter Buckbeak landed on the battlements and Harry and Hermione quickly slid off his back.

"Sirius, you'd better go, quick," Harry told him, panting. "They'll reach Flitwick's office any moment, they'll find out you're gone."

Buckbeak pawed the ground, tossing his sharp head.

"What happened to the other boy? Ron?" Sirius croaked.

"He's going to be okay. He's still out of it, but Madam Pomfrey says she'll be able to make him better. Quick – go – "

Sirius was still staring wondrously at his godson. "How can I ever thank – "

"GO!" Harry and Hermione interrupted together.

Sirius wheeled Buckbeak around, before turning back. "We'll see each other again," he said. "You are – truly your father's son, Harry . . ."

Amelia smiled even as she felt a tear roll down her cheek.

Sirius squeezed Buckbeak's sides with his heels and the hippogriff took off into the air. As the West Tower dropped below them, the scene greyed out.

* * *

Harry crouched by the fireplace in a room decorated in red and gold. Ron and Hermione sat in the room with him, while Sirius' head sat in the middle of the dancing flames. Amelia guessed it must be the Gryffindor common room; the view from Ravenclaw was better.

The three teens exchanged worried glances at something Sirius had told them.

"Listen, don't go asking too many questions about Hagrid," Sirius said hastily, "it'll just draw more attention to the fact that he's not back, and I know Dumbledore doesn't want that. Hagrid's tough, he'll be okay." Harry and his friends did not look cheered by this. "When's your next Hogsmeade weekend anyway?" he asked with a grin, changing the subject. "I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station, didn't we? I thought I could – "

"NO!" Harry and Hermione shouted together.

"Sirius, didn't you see the _Daily Prophet?"_ Hermione said anxiously.

"Oh that," said Sirius, his grin returning as he shrugged off their concerns, "they're always guessing where I am, they haven't really got a clue – "

"Yeah, but we think this time they have," Harry said. "Something Malfoy said on the train made us think he knew it was you, and his father was on the platform, Sirius – you know, Lucius Malfoy – so don't come up here, whatever you do, if Malfoy recognizes you again – "

"All right, all right, I've got the point," said Sirius, looking displeased. He did not enjoy being stuck in Grimmauld Place. "Just an idea, thought you might like to get together – "

"I would, I just don't want you chucked back in Azkaban!" said Harry.

Sirius frowned. "You're less like your father than I thought," he said finally, a definite coolness in his voice. "The risk would've been what made it fun for James."

Amelia suppressed a groan.

"Look – "

"Well, I'd better get going, I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs," Sirius lied. "I'll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall i? If you can stand to risk it?"

There was a tiny _pop_ and Amelia found herself in the kitchen of Number twelve, Grimmauld Place watching Sirius sit on the floor, an unhappy, distant expression on his face.

"With all the attempts on his life, isn't it a good thing Harry was more responsible than James?" Amelia asked.

"He still gets into just as much trouble as we did," Sirius grumbled.

"Yes, but no one was trying to kill you or James or Remus, or even Peter when you were at Hogwarts. It didn't matter as much when you skirted the rules. Harry, on the other hand, was almost killed by a _professor _his first year. Twice. You're the closest thing he has to a father – he didn't want to lose you too."

"See how well _that _worked out. We're no closer to getting out of here than we were when we started!" Sirius exclaimed angrily.

Before she could respond a voice rang through the room, unnaturally loud, "_You'll go wrong, boy, mark my words!"_

"Was that – Professor Slughorn?" Amelia asked, startled.

"How did he get in here?"

"He didn't say that to you?"

"Of course not!"

"I hadn't thought so – you were always breaking rules, but the professors still liked you. It was frustrating. But who was he talking to?"

"I – don't know."

Then the voice boomed out again, _"I don't know anything about Hocruxes and I wouldn't tell you if I did! Now get out of here at once and don't let me catch you mentioning them again!"_

"Hocruxes?"

"_Well, that's that," _came Dumbledore's voice placidly. "_Time to go."_

"What the hell is a Hocrux and why were Harry and Dumbledore looking for it in Slughorn's memory?" Sirius demanded just before the grey mists reclaimed the kitchen.


	6. Chapter 6

Amelia, Alice and Frannie lounged in the shade of a tree on the edge of the lake on the Hogwarts grounds, reviewing the O.W.L. they had just finished.

"That wasn't so bad, considering we have _yet _to have the same Defense Against the Dark Arts professor two years in a row," said Amelia.

"That's because they were all competent professors," Alice remarked. "Of course, that's probably also why they don't return. Too many dark wizards out there these days looking to jinx the opposition."

A commotion drew the three girls' attention along the shore of the lake.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

"Oh, look who's at it _again_," Alice said in exasperation. "Potter and co. I really wish you had beaten that arrogant toad in the Ravenclaw-Gryffindor match, Frannie. He needs to have his head deflated a bit."

"A _bit_?" Amelia exclaimed. "Try a _lot_. He needs a second broom just to get his ego off the ground. Potter thinks he's the greatest." She rolled her eyes.

"Greatest gift to witches, you mean, Amelia," Frannie said dryly. "Half the girls who see him simply _swoon_ over him. It's sickening. It's just as well he's obsessed with Evans, otherwise he'd leave a trail of broken hearts behind him."

"You think this is _better_?" Alice asked. "He probably only does stupid stunts like this to attract her attention. And the more she scorns him, the more outrageous he acts."

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lily Evans shouted again.

"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you," Potter said earnestly.

"Take the curse off him, then!"

"Oh, I love to see someone tell him off," Amelia said. Alice and Frannie shushed her as they watched the Slytherin boy get to his feet.

"There you go," said Potter reluctantly, "you're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus – "

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!" Snape yelled angrily. The three Ravenclaw girls gasped.

"How dare that little – " Frannie sputtered.

"Fine," Evans replied coolly. "I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, _Snivellus._"

"Apologize to Evans!" Potter roared.

"I don't want _you_ to make him apologize," Evans snapped. "You're as bad as he is!"

"What?" Potter yelped. "I'd NEVER call you a – you-know-what!"

"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down the corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."

"Can we make friends with her?" Alice asked, only half facetiously. "I want to congratulate anyone who can tell Potter how it is to his face like that."

"I thought that Snape kid was friends with Evans," Amelia remarked. It was certainly an _odd_ friendship, Gryffindor and Slytherin having a long standing rivalry, but she had always seen Snape and Evans studying together in the back of the library.

"Well, they're clearly not friends anymore," said Frannie , watching the Gryffindor girl storm away as fat-head-Potter called after her.

"Can we go study somewhere _quieter_?" Alice put in. "I want to study for Transfiguration next, and we won't be able to concentrate over here."

"We were arrogant little berks, sometimes," Sirius commented. "But I miss these days."

"Life was simpler," Amelia agreed. "Everyone was still there, we were safe, and we knew what we were supposed to do."

"Even if we didn't always do it."

"I can't really blame you and James for hexing Severus. He and his Slytherin friends were all up to their eyes in the Dark Arts."

Sirius looked away. "That wasn't the only reason I didn't like the little slimeball. He was just – so much like my family. And I hated anything that reminded me of them. Not that he didn't deserve some of it, but what I really was doing was lashing out at anything associated the 'Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.'" He snorted. "Got me into trouble more than once."

Amelia watched the gray mists reclaim the Hogwarts grounds.

* * *

Two teenagers entered the pub, grinning broadly. Amelia shook her head as Sirius ordered two Jack'o'Fires.

"What's a Jack'o'Fire?" James asked quietly as they collected the drinks and sat down.

"Pumpkin juice and firewhiskey," Sirius replied. "It's pretty good."

James nearly choked on his glass.

Sirius laughed. "Never had firewhiskey before, Prongs? Loosen up. You've been of age for over three months now. "

Amelia calculated the date. So that made this what? The beginning of the summer after sixth year? She nearly choked on her laughter as she realized what memory this must be.

James sipped at his drink, gaining confidence as he became acclimated to its bite.

"May I join you?" a young wizard asked, coming up to their table.

"If you buy us a round," replied Sirius nonchalantly.

The lighting in the pub wasn't the greatest, but Amelia thought the newcomer was Avery. She surveyed the room. Mulciber and Rosier sat in the corner, watching their friend.

"We graduate in a year," Avery said after a few rounds. "Have you thought about what you'll do after Hogwarts?"

"I thought about it," said Sirius.

"And?"

"My parents have plenty of gold," James answered. "We don't need to worry about a job for a while."

"Well, if you were interested, I might know of an opening for two skillful, pureblood wizards such as yourselves," Avery offered.

"Really?" James asked. "Where?"

"Well, I really can't say it here. Troubled times and all that, some things shouldn't be said out loud."

"I've heard some stuff like that," Sirius commented, sipping his drink. "I reckon I've heard quite a bit about this job opening of yours. Most of it sounds like a lot of what my Mum kept on about."

"Oh?" said Avery, leaning forward, a smile on his face. Clearly he was unaware of Sirius' relationship with the rest of his family.

"Yeah, my Mum was real big on pureblood supremacy," Sirius continued earnestly. "Only thing is, my Mum was also a crazy old bat, and I couldn't wait to get away from her. I don't expect you and your 'friends' are any better."

"So you can take your offer," James concluded, "and you can – " he made a rude suggestion.

Avery had just taken a sip and he sputtered as James and Sirius hurried away. Amelia followed as the pair left the pub and headed for a motorcycle parked outside. They were laughing uproariously.

"That was _great_!" James exclaimed.

"Did you see his face?" Sirius said.

"As if we didn't know exactly what he was offering!"

"Death Eaters? Us? He had to be joking!"

"He must have been blind, is what he was," James scoffed.

"Good point," Sirius agreed. He plucked at his shirt. "As if the phoenix wasn't a dead giveaway."

Ah, their refreshing subtlety. "Everyone" knew Dumbledore's symbol was a phoenix. Ironically enough, at the time there was a line of clothing by Jewel Ravena that was fashionable among the wizarding community featuring phoenix and ravens. "Birds of power," it was said.

"_How_ did you get into the Order?" Amelia asked in exasperation.

They were still laughing as they started the motorcycle and roared away. Amelia found herself pulled along behind them; it was an unusual sensation. At the speeds they were going, Amelia wasn't surprised they acquired a tail. She was only surprised it took the Muggle police so long to notice the speeding motorcycle.

James and Sirius thought it was great. James kept glancing at the pursuing car and grinning. Sirius wore a broad grin as he pushed the bike faster, not slowing even when rounding corners. Amelia suspected the liquor played only a small part. The two teenagers loved doing reckless, outrageous things like this, and they knew very well that Muggle lawmen would be no trouble at all to a pair of wizards. They were both seventeen, after all, and allowed to use magic outside of school. They _weren't _supposed to use it in front of Muggles, however.

Amelia heard the driver of the police car slam on the brakes as the motorcycle took a sharp corner particularly fast up a narrow side street. The paint on the police car was scraped as it turned down the narrow alley after them.

The street was a dead end, cutting an abrupt end to the pair's high speed antics.

Satisfied they had the "criminals" trapped, the two police officers squeezed their way out and around the car. Amelia recognized them from her father's descriptions. PC Anderson and his pudgy partner David Fisher. Fisher had a more difficult time getting out of the car. Amelia heard the buttons rip off his shirt as he dragged himself past the wall of the alley before watching him accidentally snap the wing mirror off the car.

No wonder James and Sirius were smirking. _Amelia_ couldn't take the two officers seriously; it was hardly dignified for them to have to inch along in the narrow space between the car and the wall. The two boys were clearly enjoying themselves.

"Get off the bike!" Fisher bellowed, glaring at them when they complied. "No helmets!" he yelled, pointing at each bare head in turn. Amelia snorted. _Wizards_ wear _helmets?_ Please, that would be the day. As if a motorcycle could be any more dangerous than playing Quidditch in midair. Those boys practically _lived _on their broomsticks. "Exceeding the speed limit by – by a considerable amount!" Amelia nearly snorted again. That bike had surely been traveling at a much greater speed than Muggle motorcycles were capable of. Magical enhancement. Probably not entirely legal. "Failing to stop for the police!" he yelled, still listing their misdeeds.

"We would have loved to stop for a chat," said James politely, "only we were trying – "

"Don't get smart!" Anderson snarled. Amelia wondered what James would have finished with. Something absurd, cheeky, and true, most likely. "You two are in a heap of trouble! Names!"

"Names?" Sirius repeated. "Er – well, let's see. There's Wilberforce – Bathsheba – Elvendork – "

"And what's nice about that one is, you can use it for a boy or a girl!" James exclaimed delightedly. Amelia couldn't hold back her laughter. She imagined Lily's face as James proposed naming Harry "Elvendork" instead.

As Anderson sputtered in rage, Sirius picked up the thread of conversation again. "Oh, _our_ names, did you mean?" he asked with a broad grin. "You should've said! This here is James Potter and I'm Sirius Black!"

Amelia stifled her laughter with her hands as she shook her head. _Yes, _she thought, _tell them your names so the Ministry will have absolutely no doubt about which pair of delinquent teenage wizards was having a grand time getting in trouble with the Muggle law. _Not that they had actually gotten in trouble, but that was because they got lucky. Although, she was willing to admit, they did have a habit for being lucky.

Anderson had the common Muggle reaction to Sirius' name. That is to say, he didn't believe it. "Things'll be seriously black for you in a minute, you cheeky little – "

James and Sirius were suddenly alert, their attention focused on the dark mouth of the alley, beyond the police car. With identical fluid motions, they pulled their wands from their back pockets.

In the instant they had reached for their wands, the two officers had stiffened, likely imagining more mundane weapons. The Muggles weren't impressed by the wands.

"Drumsticks?" Anderson jeered. "Right pair of jokers, aren't you?" Had Sirius and James not been more concerned with the three wizards approaching on broomsticks, Amelia suspected one or both of them would have felt the urge to confirm that statement. "Right, we're arresting you on a charge of – "

Whatever charge he was going to name was lost beneath James and Sirius' unified shout of "Locomotor Car!" The police car reared up on its rear wheels – right into the path of the three men flying up the alley on broomsticks. The two Muggles lost their ability to remain upright as they watched the three wizards slam into the upended car. As they fell to the ground surrounded by broken bits of broomstick, Amelia recognized the three Death-Eaters-to-be from the pub.

The motorcycle roared to life. "Thanks very much!" Sirius called over the noise of the engine. "We owe you one!"

"Yeah," James said, "nice meeting you! And don't forget: Elvendork! It's unisex!"

Amelia's laughter was interrupted by an earth-shattering crash as the police car reconnected with the ground. The officers threw their arms around each other in fright. They watched with disbelieving eyes as the motorbike took off into the air. Amelia was swept into the air with them, still laughing.

Sirius appeared beside her. He spun around in midair. "Okay, this is officially freaky," he announced.

"_Elvendork?"_ Amelia repeated, trying to catch her breath.

Sirius laughed. "It was the first thing I could think of."

"Were you _trying_ to annoy the officers?" she asked.

"Well, you know, I had a few problems with authority," Sirius replied with a smile and a shrug.

Another laugh escaped. "I'll say. Do you have any idea how much trouble you could've gotten in with that stunt?"

"Oh, a fair bit, I'm sure. Whatever happened to those Muggle lawmen?"

"_Now_ you ask? This was July 1977! You never thought to wonder before now?"

Sirius gave her a blank shrug. Amelia groaned. "Officer Zachary Zeraff arrived soon afterward, as Anderson and Fisher had called in your motorcycle chase. Presumably your Death Eater friends regained consciousness and Apparated away before his arrival. Since Zachary Zeraff was married to a witch, he didn't think his coworkers' tale was insane and used a charmed pendant to call his wife. You and James didn't get in trouble with the Ministry because my mother modified the memories of 'those Muggle lawmen.'"

"Gee, thanks, mate."

Amelia shook her head in disbelief that bordered between amused and offended as a quiet voice pierced the night sky.

"_Time to leave, Harry."_

"There they are again!" Sirius exclaimed as the night was replaced by the gray mists.


	7. Chapter 7

"Is that . . . the _Daily Prophet_?" Amelia asked her mother incredulously, looking down at the moving pictures on the kitchen table.

"So what if it is?"

"How can you be reading that? With everything they've been saying?"

"I've always had confidence in the _Prophet_."

"Mum! Have you listened to nothing I've told you?"

"The _Prophet_ has a point," Clarissa said stiffly. "The wizarding world cannot simply jump every time the Potter boy tells us too. The boy's clearly – troubled."

"Rita Skeeter? You believe her too? Mum, the woman conjures scandal out of thin air when she can't find anything else sensational to write about!"

"I can't believe – "

"What? You can't believe what, Mother? You can't believe the wizarding world buried its collective head in the sand for the past decade and a half? That the Ministry would deny an unpleasant truth because they don't want to believe it? You can't believe that no one would want to go back to the dark times and would rather vilify a teenage boy than admit it could return? Is that it? That's why I _left_ the wizarding world after the war. I couldn't stand the bloody fools who wanted to party and forget all those who died in the war. No one had any problems ignoring inconvenient details then, why should they have such qualms now?"

"No one's saying – "

"Aren't they? What about all those Death Eaters?" Amelia pointed an accusatory finger at the headline of the offending newspaper. "If You-Know-Who hasn't returned, why'd they all escape from Azkaban, huh? Why now? And how'd they escape anyway? A dozen, well-guarded dark wizards? Only a few months after Harry Potter claimed to have witnessed the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Pretty coincidental."

"Sirius Black – "

Amelia laughed. It wasn't a pleasant laugh.

Clarissa glared at her daughter. "I know he was your friend at one point but – "

"But he hated his family. _Hated _them. The Blacks _disowned_ him. You really think he'd go through the trouble of rescuing his _dear_ cousin from Azkaban after he's made a clean escape? And even if you wanted to follow that flawed line of thinking, again, why now?"

"I don't – "

"Of course you don't! He's still facing a Kiss, why would he go confront the dementors? The Ministry is hardly going to catch him now!"

"The Ministry is hardly as incompetent as you make them out to be!"

"The Ministry never gave him a trial!" Amelia shouted.

Clarissa stopped, her eyes wide, staring at her daughter.

"Twelve years in Azkaban and the Ministry never gave him a trial. I hardly call that 'competent.' They were bloody idiots long before June, but that's when they shoved their heads up their arses and refused to even _pretend _to listen to reason," Amelia snapped.

"Amelia – do you know where he is?" her mother asked softly. "Have you had contact with Sirius Black?"

"So what if I did?"

"Amelia, the man is a murderer. He was a servant of You-Know-Who. You have no idea of how many people he probably killed!"

"Wrong on all counts there, Mum. He's not a murderer and he never served You-Know-Who."

"Oh, he told you that did he? He told you that and you believed him? I know he was your friend, but a lot of good people were destroyed by You-Know-Who and his followers. Frannie. Alice and Frank. Lily and James. Your _father_."

"Don't talk to me about that! Have you ever gone to visit Alice and Frank? No? What about to memorial to Lily and James in Godric's Hollow, huh? No? Too busy playing with the Muggles to remember the witches and wizards? I haven't forgotten. I can't ever forget. Sirius never killed anyone."

"And you _believe_ him? I never thought my own daughter would be such a _fool_! Where is he? Where is he hiding?" Clarissa demanded.

"I couldn't tell you if I wanted too. Not that I particularly want to. I never thought my mother would be such a fool. The Ministry is being run by bloody morons! Dumbledore knows what he is doing," Amelia replied assuredly.

"Dumbledore is going senile! The Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards sacked him!"

"The Ministry should have sacked Fudge!" Amelia shouted back.

The two women glared at each other for a moment before Clarissa broke the silence. "Where is Sirius Black? If he hurt you – or threatened you – "

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I was an Auror."

"So was Alice!"

"Alice wasn't a Legimens."

"Legilimency is hardly going to stop a dark wizard."

"No, but it _will_ tell me if someone _is _a dark wizard or not. Sirius isn't."

"He let you read him?" Clarissa asked, taken aback.

"He didn't exactly have much choice at the time," Amelia answered.

"I'd say," Sirius noted dryly, leaning against the kitchen counter. "I believe I was _unconscious_ at the time."

"I sought him out for answers, and I found them. Sirius no more served You-Know-Who than I did." Amelia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She sat down at the table, staring out the window. Clarissa sat down across from her.

"You are certain?" her mother asked gently.

"Yes. Harry's not a liar, Dumbledore is not a fool, and Sirius isn't a murderer. The Ministry and the _Prophet_ get a lot of things wrong. Especially when they don't want to listen to the truth."

"You really believe – he – has returned?"

"Yes. Dumbledore brought the Order of the Phoenix back. So many people didn't make it out of the first war alive."

"The _first_ war?"

"What do you think is coming? Especially with Fudge and the Ministry ignoring it all and letting the Death Eaters establish a foothold? Another war is inevitable, and eventually the Ministry will realize this. I sincerely hope it isn't too late when that finally happens."

"It's really as bad as all that?"

"The Order lost much of its former power. And we're having a bloody hard time recruiting when the Ministry is doing its damnedest to discredit Dumbledore and Harry."

"Recruiting wasn't exactly my concern. I just wanted to get out of my bloody house!" Sirius exclaimed.

"Hush," Amelia told him. "This is when I convinced my mother to talk to my grandparents and try to get them to prepare. 'Stubborn' is a good descriptor of my family, but 'eccentric' is also appropriate. She also spoke with some of my father's old colleagues, keeping an eye on Muggle affairs."

"Your family had close ties with Muggles, didn't you?" Sirius asked.

"Well, yes. My father _was_ a Muggle, my mother pretended to be one most of the time. My brother turned out to be a Muggle, too."

"You ever talk to him about what was happening?"

Before Amelia could answer, the scene dissolved.

* * *

"What do you mean 'dangerous'?" William demanded.

"Remember when I went to Hogwarts and Mum and Dad were worried because the wizarding world was having problems?"

"You mean that nameless guy?"

"Yes."

"What nameless guy?" Sarah asked.

Amelia motioned for her sister-in-law to sit down. "Do you remember how, about twenty years ago Britain wasn't a very happy place?" Sarah nodded. "Yeah, well, we had a sort of wizard civil war going on. A group of wizards were severely anti-Muggle. You know what a Muggle is, right?"

"Yes, you explained that. Non-magical folk. I'm a Muggle, Will's a Muggle. I'm not stupid," Sarah added.

"Not saying you are. I fought for the other side. But this group, they called themselves 'Death Eaters.' Their leader was a man who was so feared; no one wanted to say his name. 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,' or You-Know-Who, for short. His name was Voldemort. _Lord_ Voldemort. Don't repeat that, though. Witches and wizards still flinch at the name and he's been gone fourteen years now. But he's back. The problem is, most people are denying it," Amelia said with a sigh.

"Why would they do that?" Sarah asked.

"It – it was a bad time. Our dad died, a lot of my wizarding friends died. Wanded folk didn't know who to trust. It was a very bad time that no one wants to go back to." Amelia neglected to mention just _how_ bad it was.

"How do you know this – unnamed fellow – is back? Where was he all this time?"

"Most people thought he was dead. Halloween 1981, Voldemort tried to kill Harry Potter. I was friends with his parents; I went to school with them, and I fought with them. We were in the Order together."

Sarah gave her a blank look.

"Sorry," Amelia confessed, "I'm explaining this badly. The Order of the Phoenix opposed the Death Eaters. We were the front lines. Alastor found a picture of us recently. Most of the people in that picture are gone."

Sarah gasped.

"Yes, well, it was war. Our mortality rate was high. It was worse because there was a traitor in our ranks. Voldemort got word of a child who had 'the power to vanquish' him. He believed Harry Potter was this child, and although Lily and James Potter went into hiding, they were betrayed and Voldemort found them."

Sarah raised her hand. "I thought you said people were too scared to say his name."

"Most are. I am of the opinion, an opinion shared by most of the Order, that being afraid of his name only makes you more afraid of the man himself, makes him less a person and more a nightmare. Not that I would quite call him a human anymore. He – he killed James, killed Lily, and when he tried to kill Harry, the curse backfired. People thought he was dead, and Harry became famous. Poor kid. Voldemort – did something – that enabled him to survive, half alive. Last June, he came back. Tried to kill Harry again, but Harry escaped and announced his return."

Amelia paced the kitchen before resting against the counter by the sink. "There is a Ministry of Magic. Our current Minister is – not capable of handling these types of situations. To call Cornelius Fudge 'incompetent' is being generous. He didn't believe Harry, didn't listen to Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of the wizarding school Hogwarts, who is widely believed to be the only one Voldemort ever feared. Fudge didn't listen to Severus Snape, the Potions Professor at Hogwarts and a former Death Eater, when he supported the news Voldemort was back. Fudge – he just – he's turned most of the wizarding world against Dumbledore and Harry."

"Did you ever learn who the traitor was?" Will asked.

"We thought we knew. Remember a couple of years ago, when the news kept on about escaped convict Sirius Black?"

"He was a _wizard?"_ Sarah exclaimed.

"I went to school with him. He was James Potter's best friend. Everyone thought Sirius was the one who betrayed the Potters'."

"Did you catch him?" Will demanded. "The news never announced a capture."

"He was caught . . . but Harry and his friends helped him escape."

"_What?"_

"With help from Dumbledore." Amelia shrugged sheepishly. "He wasn't guilty. The real traitor faked his own death and set Sirius up to take the fall for it all. And James' death unhinged Sirius a bit, so he wasn't strong with a defense."

"_Unhinged_ me a bit?" Sirius repeated in disbelief.

"Laughing your head off on a ruined street filled with screaming Muggles? Yeah, I would call that unhinged, mate," Amelia retorted.

Will waved a hand at his sister. "And the real traitor was . . ."

"Peter Pettigrew. He was a member of their clique. It was James, who died, Sirius, who was imprisoned, Peter, who is believed dead, and Remus Lupin, who – well, he's a werewolf."

Her brother and sister-in-law gaped. "You never told me there were werewolves," William accused.

Amelia shrugged. "It never came up. Anyway, Peter got away again, and there is no evidence, so Sirius is currently still in hiding."

"You know where he is," William said flatly.

"What is it with you people? You. Mum. Is it really that obvious I know where he is? Yes, I know where he is, no I can't tell you. And not because I don't trust you. I _literally_ cannot say where he is, it is bespelled."

"Bespelled?" repeated Sarah.

"The Ministry may be in denial, but Dumbledore awoke the Order and we have to protect ourselves. Our headquarters is hidden from everyone else."

Silence descended upon the kitchen before William asked, "Why are you telling us all this?"

"Because the country's going to hell again and you are part of it. Because I'm putting myself on the frontlines again, and because Heather starts Hogwarts come September and this is what she's going into."

"Your niece was supposed to start Hogwarts this September?" Sirius asked.

As Amelia nodded, she separated from her memory-self. "You know, I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that." Then she sighed. "Yes she was. She might have already gone. There is no way to be able to tell how time is passing on the other side of the Veil. The only indications are when Harry and Dumbledore speak in the Pensieve. It could have been a week or a year."

"I'm leaning more toward the year than the week," said Sirius.

"Yeah, well, so am I." Amelia sighed and paced the kitchen, watching the three figures in her memory. "This must be hell for them. No body, no explanation – I just disappeared. I don't even know if anyone knew I was _at_ the Department of Mysteries that night. Dumbledore knew I was going, but I was Disillusioned!"

"No one saw you?"

"No! I – I don't know." She was making wide, uncertain gestures with her hands. "It was a battle, they were distracted, fighting for their lives." She clenched her hands into fists and forced them down to her sides. "Dumbledore knew. He told me about the battle. He always seems to see my owl, even Disillusioned. He would have known I was there. He would have understood when I disappeared." Then, almost inaudible, she added, "I hope."

"Dumbledore is – is – he's a genius. Remember, he masterminded my escape from Flitwick's office with very little warning. And – oh. I wonder who's taking care of Buckbeak."

Amelia managed a laugh. "He's probably just as happy to be out of that house as you were."

Sirius grinned at her. "That's a fair bet."

Amelia managed a smile, but it faded as she stared at the image of her brother. "I missed watching her start Hogwarts."

"But, you know, you're not dead," Sirius offered. "That's a good thing."

"Yeah," Amelia said half-heartedly.

The gray mist swallowed them.


	8. Chapter 8

"Professor! Professor Flitwick!" Amelia called, as she ran down the corridor to her Head of House.

"Yes, Miss Zeraff?" the tiny Charms professor inquired. Amelia came to a halt beside him.

"Have you heard from Frannie? Francine Kerris," she elaborated. "I haven't heard from her since just after Christmas, and she wasn't on the train back to school . . . " Amelia took a deep breath. "Do you know what happened?"

Amelia watched Professor Flitwick's face fall. The sorrow in his eyes had her shaking her head in denial. "No, _no._ She was a pureblood! She should have been safe!" She tried to blink the tears from her eyes, but they only fell faster.

"Miss Kerris was visiting Mr. Richards and his family," Flitwick gently informed her. Marcus Richards was a Muggleborn wizard in their year who Frannie had recently started dating. "His entire block was found in ruins. I know you were close friends. If there is anything I can do to help – if – if you think my cupcakes might help – "

Amelia shook her head. "N-no. Th-thank you." Dancing cupcakes, no matter how cute and delicious, could never compare to her best friend. She walked to the Ravenclaw Tower as if in a trance.

"What is the now?" the eagle knocker asked, breaking into Amelia's blank thoughts.

"N-now?" Amelia repeated haltingly. She stared at the door as if she had never seen it before. "Now she isn't here. She's n-not coming back. She's dead. My best friend is d-dead. I'll never see her again – or – or laugh with her. She's _gone!"_ Amelia sank to the floor, uncontrollably sobbing.

Running footsteps echoed down the stone corridor. "Amelia! Have you heard from Frannie? Where is she?" Alice exclaimed. "Amelia, what's wrong?"

"What is the now?" the knocker repeated.

"Now? Er . . . I reckon now is what we perceive as our current place in the flow of time," Alice answered.

"Nicely phrased," replied the eagle door knocker as the door swung open. Alice helped Amelia through.

"What happened, Amelia?" she asked quietly.

"Frannie's dead," Amelia sobbed. "She was visiting Marcus and they're all _dead!"_

For an instant Alice looked as if she had been Stunned, but slowly her face crumpled and she began crying too.

In six months they would have graduated Hogwarts with plans to become Aurors. There had been some talk that they might join the shadowy "Order" that was organizing to oppose the growing numbers of Death Eaters.

"We did it all," Amelia said absently, shaking off the disorientation of separating from her past-self. "Everything we had planned to do as the three of us, we still did as the two of us. It wasn't the same; we were constantly reminded there should have been another. That only increased our determination to become Aurors. The three years of training were quite condensed, and highly practical. Between the Ministry and the Order, frankly I'm surprised Alice found time to get married, but then Frank was an Auror as well, and they _did_ spend a considerable amount of time together, and they _had _gotten together while in Hogwarts.. And – and then – when we thought the worst was over – "

The Ravenclaw common room dissolved.

Amelia Apparated in front of an old, well cared-for house. She knew that house –

She dropped to her knees in the snow, refusing to follow her younger self into the house.

"Isn't this the Longbottoms' house?" Sirius asked her.

"Yes," Amelia said weakly. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I was the one that found them – a-after." She couldn't get their vacant expressions out of her head. "It should have been over. Voldemort was gone. They should have been safe. They never recovered. They are still in St. Mungo's, in the Janus Thickey Ward for l-long-term residents."

"Bellatrix did this," Sirius said through clenched teeth.

"Her, her husband, his brother, and young Barty Crouch. I was one of the ones that hunted them down. I hunted them down, saw them sentenced to Azkaban – and then I left. I quit. I couldn't stand it anymore. There should have been three of us. Me, Frannie, and Alice. We were going to be Aurors together. But Frannie was dead. And it would have been kinder if Alice was dead. So I left. I turned my back on the wizarding world. They were all _celebrating . _Most of the people I considered friends were dead or as good as dead – and I just couldn't stand that the entire wizarding community just wanted to celebrate and then forget the War had ever happened."

"Where did you go?" he asked, curious.

"I took my Mum's advice and joined the Muggle world."

"The Muggle world?"

"Yeah. I became a librarian. It was quiet, and I was surrounded by books all day."

"And you just – dropped magic?" Sirius asked in disbelief.

"No, I kept magic. Half of my house was spelled. I studied magic texts at the library – all they saw was a book. I just avoided the magical community."

"No Quidditch?"

"No Quidditch," she replied. "I only ever really got interested in Quidditch because Frannie was on the House team. She was a Chaser."

"Like James."

"Yeah."

They sat there in the snow in silence. Amelia didn't look up at the house. Inside, her younger self had found four Death Eaters torturing her friend. She drove them off, but that was only because neither Alice nor Frank was left with enough of a mind to provide the answers that were demanded – answers they didn't know anyway. If she had arrived sooner, maybe she could have saved them.

"If you had come sooner, the Lestranges might have gotten you, too."

Amelia looked over at Sirius, startled. "I didn't realize I'd said that out loud," she said.

"You didn't. But you might as well have; it was all over your face."

"I didn't know you were so good at reading people."

"I'm not, usually."

Conversation died again as the snow fell around them. Amelia held out a hand, watching a few snowflakes land on it. She realized she wasn't feeling the cold.

"_Thank you, Harry. Let us go._"

"What do you suppose they're doing?"

"Harry and Dumbledore?"

"Yeah. What are they looking for in the Pensieve? This makes – what? Five times we've heard them now?"

"I don't know. Maybe something to defeat Voldemort?"

"I suppose. But how are Slughorn and Horcruxes involved?"

"It would help if we knew what Horcruxes were."

"I've never heard of them before, not in anything I've read."

"You're certain?"

"Yes."

Sirius sighed. "I guess it doesn't matter, anyway. We have to find our way out of here."

"But how do we do that? And what will we find if we get there?"

"You're the one who figured out what's happening, you tell me."

"I don't know! I don't even know if we _can_ get out of here!" Amelia exclaimed.

For a long moment Sirius didn't say anything. "You were very close to them weren't you?"

"Frannie and Alice? We were almost as close as you and James, I'd suspect."

"The War took so many."

Amelia looked away.

"What is it?" Sirius asked.

"My father. Remember how I said he was a Muggle lawman? They got him, too. I don't even think it had anything to do with the fact he married a witch."

"I'm sorry."

"What's one more among the many casualties? I almost dropped out of Auror training right then, but he wouldn't have wanted me to quit. But I did anyway. Just over two years later. Mum hasn't been the same since."

Sirius thought for a moment. The math wasn't particularly difficult. "He died in '79? My father died that year. He wasn't as bad as my mother, but he wasn't much better either."

"I hate to tell you this, but your whole family's screwed up."

"Andromeda's not bad. And you like Tonks."

"But they were disowned. Anyone your family _liked_ didn't have a chance."

Another silence. Then – "Reggie also died that year."

"But – he was barely out of Hogwarts! He couldn't have been a Death Eater for very long."

"Long enough. No one ever found him. He just vanished. The Order had no information, so it must have been the other side."

"Vanished? Like Caradoc Dearborn?"

"Something like that. Do you realize how many of the original Order didn't make it out?"

"Most of them. Most of our friends. Why do you think I was so keen to hide myself in the Muggle world? Anywhere else had too many memories of people who weren't coming back. I bought myself a place, and other than my mother, I'm the only witch who's ever come near it."

"You know what we need?"

"What?"

"A fun memory. None of these bad ones. Quidditch maybe?"

Amelia laughed despite everything. "You and James and Quidditch." She shook her head.

"I spied on one of Harry's games his third year. He flies just like James."

"James let the fact he was the alternate Seeker and won the game that time Richie Coor was in the Hospital Wing fourth year inflate his head more than it already was. That was when he started playing with the Snitch all the time."

"I will admit we weren't the most mature students in our year. And, yeah, we let the attention go to our head, but he got just as much praise for all the other games he played as Chaser. But Seekers get more attention and Chasers were easier to replace."

"You were a Beater, weren't you? And Frannie was a Chaser for Ravenclaw." A fragment of an earlier memory stirred. "Did your brother play for Slytherin?"

There was a delay before Sirius answered. "He was the Seeker."

"Like Harry." When Sirius didn't respond, Amelia continued. "When did you see him play?"

"The first year, when I kept trying to get at Wormtail. It wasn't his best game, I'd reckon. With the weather and the dementors and his Nimbus."

"What about his Nimbus?"

"Harry got a Nimbus 2000 his first year when he accidentally impressed McGonagall with his skills and got himself on the team."

"In his _first_ year?" Amelia exclaimed. "That would have made him the youngest house player in – something like a century."

"You and your books, Amelia." Sirius shook his head. "Anyway – "

The Longbottom house dissolved into the gray.

Amelia was sitting in the Quidditch stands, in the topmost row, which was empty except for a large, black dog. It was dark and raining and she could barely tell the two teams apart. Some of the figures on brooms wore mud-splattered Gryffindor scarlet and the others wore – yellow?

"Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff," Sirius announced.

"How can they play in this weather? Isn't it dangerous?"

"It's not the weather that caused was the biggest problem, this game."

"Okay, Mr. Quidditch-Know-It-All. You remember this. What happened?"

"I think this is after the Gryffindor captain called for a time-out. The Gryffindor captain was the Keeper, the Hufflepuff captain was – the Seeker, I think. Yeah, and look! That one's Harry!"

He pointed to a dark-haired boy flying nearby wearing mud and scarlet. In the momentary illumination provided by a flash of lightning, Amelia recognized a drenched Harry. He was staring at their part of the stands. Did he see them? No, he was looking at the enormous dog that ducked under the seats once it realized it had been spotted.

"Harry!" came an anguished yell from the Gryffindor goal posts. The captain? "Harry, behind you!"

And then Harry looked wildly around before pelting in the direction of someone in yellow chasing after what looked to be a tiny flicker of gold.

Amelia stared in horror at the dementors that flooded onto the field, all looking up – at Harry. "What are dementors doing on the Quidditch field?" she asked quietly.

"Making nuisances of themselves and losing Gryffindor the game," Sirius answered promptly. "Harry was affected badly by the dementors – as you can see." And there was Harry, falling off his broom – toward the dementors.

But there also was Dumbledore, running onto the field. And even at this distance Amelia could clearly see the fury on his face. He waved his wand, slowing Harry's fall. Then he leveled his wand at the dementors and a silver phoenix was chasing them away.

"Gryffindor lost," Sirius repeated, indicating the boy in yellow holding something tightly in his hand. "And Harry's Nimbus got caught in the wind . . ." Amelia saw the broom, drifting away from the stadium, right towards –

"It got splintered by the Whomping Willow," Sirius finished.

Amelia winced.

"Harry was fine; he started taking extra lessons with Remus to learn to produce a Patronus, so he could fight the dementors off next time. I heard that during his next game, some Slytherin students tried to sabotage him by dressing up as dementors – and a silver stag ran them down."

"That's what he did at the end of the year to drive the dementors away, wasn't it? That night."

"Thirteen years old and already capable of producing a corporeal patronus. He's James and Lily's son, alright," Sirius said proudly.

"And you bought him the Firebolt?"

"He needed a new broom, and with his abilities a lesser broom would have been a crime."

"You like getting him brooms, don't you?"

"Huh?"

"His first broom?"

"Oh. Yeah, that. I missed the chance to see him grow up. Twelve years. It was twelve years since I saw him, almost thirteen before I had a chance to talk to him."

"You weren't trying to talk to him, if I recall. You were too busy playing with Hermione's cat, trying to destroy the only chance you had to prove your innocence."

"Almost twelve years in Azkaban, it changes a person. They couldn't take the knowledge of my innocence from me, couldn't take the knowledge of Peter from me. Can you blame me if I dwelled on it? Can you blame me for also not exactly trusting the Ministry? I never got a trial! And Minister of Magic I'm-an-ass Fudge was the one that arrested me. So, no, I didn't concern myself with trying to prove my innocence. You remember Fudge and his fabulous ability to deny a truth he doesn't want to hear. He never would have given me a chance. So it was just as well. With no wand and no support, I wouldn't have been able to keep hold of Peter, and the Ministry wouldn't have given me an opportunity to explain." Finishing his tirade, Sirius glared at her.

"Sorry," she said, holding her hands up in peace. "We don't have to revisit that."

The stormy Quidditch field went gray.


	9. Chapter 9

"Now we're back in the mist," Sirius observed dryly.

"I'm not entirely certain we ever left," Amelia replied.

"Come again?"

"Have you ever used a Pensieve? The strands of memory are a silvery-grey. Similar in color to the mist."

"So you're saying the mist is memory?"

"Er, not exactly. But this _is_ very much like a Pensieve. Maybe the mist amplifies the memory?" She noticed the look he was giving her. "I'm making this up!" she exclaimed. "All right? I don't have a bloody clue what in Merlin's name is going on, so I'm just making up something that seems to make sense with what I know at the moment, and reconsidering the finer points later on. Happy now?"

He laughed. "It's unusual to see you at such a loss. And no books to look up the answers in."

"I really am making this up. We are just randomly progressing between memories."

"Randomly? It doesn't seem random," Sirius interjected. "There does seem to be some link between the memories we relive."

Amelia opened her mouth to object, then closed it again. "You could be right." She looked around. "Of all the times to not have any sort of paper around! And to think I never liked making lists much. Now that I want to, I can't. Fine, let's try to talk it out. What's the first thing you remember about what's happening?"

"The Department of Mysteries," Sirius replied promptly.

"Hmm. I remember falling."

"Falling?" he repeated.

"Yes, I was falling, and _then_ I remembered the Department of Mysteries – which was _why_ I was falling. But I was falling first."

"Huh. I wonder why." He shrugged it away. "We can work on that later. Shouldn't let ourselves get side-tracked yet. The park was next, wasn't it?"

Amelia tried to order her thoughts. "I was falling, then it went back to why I was falling, and then I was trying . . . to find a way out. Maybe. But after that, I was in the hall, conspiring to get you out of that wretched house. So, yes, the park. Then the train, and then it jumped ahead to the Sorting."

"And then the mist, where we decided we weren't dead."

"Yes, and the mist revisited the words spoken on the Hogwarts express, before dumping us in Godric's Hollow."

"Then your kitchen. 'This is getting ridiculous.'"

"Yes. And it is. It's just jumping around. There's no order to it."

"No. Because next was my wand. I asked about your wand – and that's where we went next."

"But after that came Lily's wedding – no wait, first it was the cave, then the wedding."

"Your appearance outside Hogsmeade was very important."

"But I don't see how that's related to Lily's wedding."

"Nor do I, but there _is_ some connection to the wedding and our exit from the Shrieking Shack. You had been discussing Lily's sister and her husband, who came up in the conversation between me and Harry. And, like the memory of the train, it jumped to later that night."

"And you compared Harry to James," Amelia said, her eyes widening. "Which you did again in the scene that followed. That was what? September? October?"

"Something like that. But we also mentioned James and Remus and getting in trouble – "

"Which was what the next memory was about!"

"Exactly. So there is some pattern."

"And then you said something about lashing out at your family – and you compared Avery and the Death Eaters to your mother."

"You were talking about _your_ family, and they came up next. And you missed them and then we jumped to your friends."

"Yeah, Frannie. But then I brought up what happened to Alice – "

"And that's where we went. I started talking about Harry's Quidditch game – "

"And we watched it."

"Then you said not to revisit the past. And behold! No memory, just mist."

"So we have some control over what we see. And it seems like we the more we saw, the more we could control."

"So does that mean we are going further in or further out?"

"I'm not sure. If it was further _in_, we'd be getting closer to the memories, which could provide more control. On the other hand, it could be further _out_, and we are sorting out the maze, and thus can offer more control in what we see. There's no way to be certain."

"So that's no help."

A soft whisper broke through the mists.

"Severus . . ."

Amelia froze. She recognized that voice, though she didn't understand why she was hearing it now. She felt Sirius stiffen beside her.

"Severus . . . please . . . " Dumbledore was pleading, his voice weaker than Amelia had ever heard it before. He sounded tired, very, very tired. In that moment, Amelia _knew_ what was going to happen. Knew it even before Severus' voice pierced the mist.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

"No!" Amelia's scream of horror burst from her throat. She was vaguely aware of hearing Sirius cry out simultaneously.

It was as if the mist had invaded her head. She couldn't think. It couldn't – she hadn't – it wasn't – no, it couldn't be. It couldn't. "Dumbledore – he always – _trusted_ Severus. I thought – I thought – Dumbledore – "

There were no words, no words that could overcome the shock.

"That wasn't a memory," Amelia whispered hoarsely. She _knew_ it wasn't, though she didn't know _how_ she knew.

Sirius was also in shock. "But – then – how – how did we hear – _that_? That was – that was Dumbledore! He – he is – he wouldn't have – been caught off guard. He always – he _plans _ – and he – he can't be – "

"I don't know. I don't – understand. Dumbledore – he always – he kept saying he trusted Severus, that he had an – ironclad – reason to trust him." Amelia was shaking. Dumbledore was a rock, an anchor, the core of the Order, the only one Voldemort ever feared. He just – couldn't be _gone_.

"How do you trust a Death Eater?" Sirius said harshly. "It was right there, branded on his arm," he spat. "You can't come back from that. Double agents – you can't trust them. They're traitors. They betray their friends."

A little part of Amelia's mind recalled another traitor, one who had taken the lives of a pair of good friends, ruining Sirius's life in the process.

"That – sniveling – greasy –git," Sirius snarled. "James should have let Moony get him."

"What are you talking about?" Amelia asked confused. She was floundering and seized upon anything that would distract her and stop her from dwelling on what they'd just heard.

The mists rippled around them before Sirius could explain.

Hogwarts. There was no other place like it. Nearly two decades after she left, there was no mistaking its corridors.

It was late and the corridors were mostly empty. A Slytherin boy paused by a window and looked across the grounds. The hook-nose was almost as unmistakable as the hallway he stood in. Amelia moved closer to see what had caught Severus' attention. A pair of people walked down the stone steps, crossing the dark grounds. One of them looked to be – Madam Pomfrey? And – and Remus?

With a sick feeling, Amelia glanced up at the moon. It didn't appear to be up yet, but they were clearly on their way to the Whomping Willow.

Amelia wasn't the only one in the corridor to notice Severus' interest in the view from the window. A teenage Sirius glanced out the window at his friend and turned a frown on Severus' back. Severus was watching the scene below him intently and didn't notice the Gryffindor boy until Sirius came up behind him.

"What are you looking at?" Sirius said, somewhat neutrally.

Snape spun, startled, his face darkening as he recognized one of his nemeses. "Nothing," he replied, all emotion gone from his face, locked up tight within him.

Sirius made a pointed glance out the window. "Doesn't look like nothing. Looks to me like you're spying on Remus. Again."

"And what if I am? I don't recall any prohibition on looking out the windows of the castle."

"Of course not, Snivellus," Black sneered. "I'm sure you are completely uninterested in trying to learn the routes out of the school. You were watching them leave, weren't you? Watching them prod the knot on the trunk with a long stick to freeze the Willow, huh? Were you thinking of following them? What interest do you have to sneaking out of school, Snivellus?"

"No interest," Snape said quickly. But there was calculation in his eyes as they flickered to the now-empty grounds and back.

"Keep it that way," Sirius said coldly. "I don't want to hear you spying on my friends again." He walked away without a backward glance.

"Oh, Merlin, Sirius, you . . . what were you thinking?" Amelia implored. "You did that on purpose!" she accused. "Piquing his curiosity so he'll follow, and not warning him what he's going to find when he does? He could have gotten killed!"

Sirius ignored her as he ducked behind a suit of armor, watching Severus stare intently out the window before leaving – heading purposefully in the direction of the entrance hall. With a satisfied smirk, Sirius left his hiding spot and turned down a side hall.

James met him two floors up. "Where were you? You were supposed to meet me by the Fat Lady ten minutes ago!"

"I was getting rid of a nuisance. Snivellus won't be bothering us tonight," Sirius said smugly.

James chuckled. "That's quite a feat. Almost as good as what we've accomplished. How'd you manage it?"

"I sent him to get the 'git' scared out of him."

Some of the humor faded from James' face. "What did you do?"

"I told him how to get under the Whomping Willow."

James went white. "Tonight? With Moony down there? He could get a lot more than scared! He could get killed! Moony could kill him by accident!"

Sirius paled. "I didn't think – "

"No!" James exclaimed. "You didn't! What would happen to Moony if his furry little problem killed someone? Huh? Try thinking about that next time!" James turned and ran for the stairs.

Sirius still looked pale and a bit wide-eyed when Wormtail arrived a few minutes later.

"What's happening?" he asked. "Where's James?"

"Prongs is protecting Moony from my stupidity."

"That is putting it mildly!" Amelia shouted at the memory. "Snape could have been killed! Worse! He could have been bitten! Remus would have surely been expelled! And you! Expulsion was the _least_ of what you might have gotten! Do you _never_ think ahead?"

"Prongs and Moony were more the 'think ahead' ones," Sirius replied.

"Clearly! Frankly I'm amazed you had the presence of mind to escape Azkaban!"

"I had nothing to do but think in that place."

"And evidently that's what you needed!" Amelia snapped at him. "This stunt could have destroyed the three of you! Even James and Peter might have been caught in the backlash!"

"Nothing happened. James stopped him."

"That's not the point!"

"I know. It was one of the most foolish things I've ever done," Sirius admitted. "If James hadn't been sensible – " He shrugged. "James ended up being the sensible one a great deal of the time. Still, it wouldn't have been more than Snape deserved."

His words were like a bucket of ice water, reminding Amelia of what had led them into this memory.

"I still – I can't believe Dumbledore – was deceived – so badly."

"Think about it," Sirius countered. "Snivellus had to be fooling one of them, Moldy-wart or Dumbledore. That's not easy to do. Dumbledore thought Snape was deceiving Voldemort; if he could do that, then he certainly could have been lying to Dumbledore instead."

Amelia found herself nodding reluctantly. "He was an accomplished Occlumens, after all."

"Dumbledore had him teaching Harry Occlumency. Not that that worked particularly well." Sirius scowled. Then his expression cleared. "Hey, couldn't you have taught Harry Occlumency?"

But Amelia shook her head. "I'm a much better Legilimens than I am an Occlumens. I can only do basic Occlumency techniques. I am nowhere near the level of skill that Severus possesses. All I can really do is blank my mind, make it 'not there.' It's how I evaded the dementors when I went to visit you. They're blind, they can only sense emotions. I close down, and there are no emotions for them to sense. Therefore they never knew I was there."

Sirius chuckled. "I still have trouble wrapping my head around that, you know. Who tries to sneak _into_ Azkaban?"

Amelia snorted. "People who want answers more than anything else."

Grey mist reclaimed their surroundings.


	10. Chapter 10

Amelia pretended to be composed as she strolled casually down the street in Godric's Hollow.

"I used to love Halloween," she said quietly to herself. "Especially when I was little. Reckon it was my favorite day of the entire year, better even than Christmas or my birthday." She hastily wiped her eyes and smiled at a passing witch. "The entire wizarding world loves Halloween, but I grew up among Muggles. Only day of the year I got to see my mother show off, only day everyone pretended to believe witches were real. Now look at me," she muttered unhappily. "Six years and I still can't keep it together."

She shouldn't have waited so long. She knew that, but – she couldn't bring herself to come sooner. The little village had all the trimmings expected of a wizarding community at Halloween. Only someone looking for it could have detected the faint subdued air that lingered as Amelia came to a stop in front of the memorial. The obelisk was covered in the names of the dead and the missing. As she watched, it transformed into a commemorative statue. Three people made of stone, a happy family: a man with unruly hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind, pretty face, and a baby boy sitting in his mother's arms.

Eyes wet with tears, Amelia turned away. She walked through the kissing gate at the entrance to the graveyard, kept walking behind the church, through row upon row of shadowed tombstones. Amelia knelt down beside a white marble headstone, crying freely.

_The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death._

When her tears finally slowed, Amelia removed a potted plant from her bag. "I know it's the wrong time of year to plant anything, but I couldn't bring myself to come sooner. I'm sorry, Lily, I should have come sooner. I just . . . I – I was a coward. I couldn't face you. I lost too many friends. The downside to being on the frontlines. Anyway, it's a pumpkin. You know, for Halloween. Remember that – that October, when we were carving pumpkins in your kitchen? You told me to get the Secret from Sirius. I should have come sooner. Maybe if I had – "

Taking a deep breath, Amelia finished planting the pumpkin and gave it an infusion of magic to help it grow. "I know that's not very good for the plant, but I reckon it will make up for planting it now and not in the spring. I'll try not to wait so long to visit next time."

Blinking away tears, Amelia stowed her wand in her sleeve and walked out of the graveyard and down the lane. She stopped at the end of the row of houses, in front of one that looked the worse for wear, having been abandoned these last six years. Rubble lay scattered in tall grass behind the wild unkempt hedge. Ivy climbed the walls of the cottage, mostly intact, except for the right side of the top floor, which looked to have been blown apart.

"It should have ended here," Amelia whispered. "It shouldn't have taken Alice, too. And Frank."

She reached for the rusted gate to steady herself and watched a sign rise out of the ground, up through the nettles and weeds that had taken over the Potters' lawn. She read the golden letters inscribed on the wood.

On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981,

Lily and James Potter lost their lives.

Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard

ever to have survived the Killing Curse.

This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left

in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters

and as a reminder of the violence

that tore apart their family.

Around the neatly lettered words, scribbles had been added by other witches and wizards who had come to see the place where the Boy Who Lived had escaped, just as other visitors had added scribbles on other signs the whole world over. Some had signed their names in Everlasting Ink or carved their initials into the wood, while others had left messages.

"Isn't it enough?" Amelia gasped. "Isn't it enough everyone _celebrated_ the day after they died? Why did you have to desecrate the sign too? Why'd you have to do that too? Why?" She sank down to the ground, sobbing. "Why?"

"Why didn't I come sooner? Lily told me to come. It had been a week. I should have come. Why didn't I? Why didn't I visit? Why? Why did he betray them? Why did Sirius sell out his best friend?"

"Becoming a Legimens hasn't done much to help me control my emotions. I'd say I'd have to improve my Occlumency next, but I'm fine as long as I'm not alone. But I . . . " Amelia trailed off as an idea occurred to her. "I wanted to know why. Well then, I reckon I should go ask him."

Orienting herself, and checking to be sure no one was looking her way, Amelia transformed into an owl and began the long flight to the North Sea.

The long journey gave her time to think. More than once she considered turning back but the lure of answers kept her going. Sirius had been her friend once. He would face her for what he had done and she would know _why_ he had betrayed everything he claimed to care about.

Her temper flared several times as she flew, but when she finally reached the dreary island Amelia was much too tired to sustain her anger. Blocking her mind from the senses of the dementors, she sought out the cell of her prey.

It took more than one circuit of the prison to locate Black. At the late hour of night there were a surprising number of inmates awake. Black was not one of them. He was instead sprawled unconscious on his bed. His hair had grown out and was a tangled, dirty mess. He was unnaturally thin and drawn, with deep shadows beneath his eyes. He seemed unlikely to wake anytime soon.

Oh well. That made this both easier and more difficult.

Amelia squeezed her owl form through the bars of the window. Checking the vantage of the room to ensure no one could see in, she transformed back into a human. A quiet, murmured spell and she kept any sound from leaving the cell. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she knelt beside the bed, pulled open his eyelids, and said, "_Legilimens!"_

The Azkaban cell swam around her before disappearing completely.

Amelia stood in front of the Potters' cottage and watched Sirius knock on the door. This was the Sirius of years before, and judging by the Halloween decorations, it was likely six years ago.

_What in Merlin's name?_

Lily answered the door, James right behind her, Harry in his arms. "Sirius!" She exclaimed. "You are early! We weren't going to work the spell until later."

"I know, but . . . I had a thought," Sirius explained.

"Really? Come in and you can explain," Lily replied.

Amelia went to follow Sirius through the doorway and had the disconcerting experience of having Lily close the door _through_ her. Amelia stopped in the entrance and looked down at her body. It looked solid to her but when she waved her hand, it passed right through the walls.

"Okay, that is very strange," she said to herself. "This was _not_ what I was expecting."

She recalled fragment of one of the books on Legilimency. _Use caution when attempting to touch the unstable mind for Legilimency does not always react as expected in such situations. _The unstable mind . . . and everyone went mad in Azkaban. Not as thought through as she had hoped. Amelia exhaled noisily.

She could hear the trio conversing in the living room but temporarily ignored it. She closed her eyes and tried to pull herself out of Sirius' mind. _There_. Amelia could feel the hard cell floor beneath her knees. With the knowledge she wasn't trapped, Amelia allowed Sirius' memory to drift back over her.

"I am the obvious choice," Sirius-of-six-years-ago was telling James and Lily. "It's _obvious_. Voldemort will know it's me. But if we use someone else as the Secret-Keeper – then we can use me as a decoy."

"_No!" _came Sirius' anguished yell.

Amelia darted into the living room to see a fourth adult.

"Don't listen to him!" the Sirius from Azkaban yelled. He threw himself at his younger self but passed right through.

"Make Peter the Secret-Keeper instead," the younger Sirius continued. Amelia stood transfixed in shock.

"Don't," the older, disheveled Sirius begged James. "Stick with the plan we agreed on. I'll be the Secret-Keeper. James, Prongs, please. _Please_. Don't give it to Peter. Don't involve him." Amelia seemed to be the only one who could hear him.

"He is weak, and easily overlooked, Voldemort would never think to come after him. He's a better choice," younger Sirius said.

"That might actually be a good idea," James replied.

"NO!" older Sirius cried.

"Voldemort and every single one of his Death Eaters will be hunting _you,_ Sirius," Lily said worriedly.

"That means they won't be after Peter," younger Sirius returned.

"No!" older Sirius shouted. "You can't trust Peter! He's a rat! We should have been suspicious of him the moment we realized his Animagus form was a rat!"

_Animagus?_

"Moony!" older Sirius shouted desperately. "Make Remus the Secret-Keeper instead! He's been acting strangely but he would never betray you! He's a werewolf! We're the only friends he has! He would never betray the Order! James, please."

Amelia knew Remus was a werewolf; she knew how to read a lunar chart. But _Animagi?_

James was but a memory and only heard the younger Sirius and his convincing arguments.

"Lily," older Sirius pleaded. "You know; James told you what we are, what we did. We were skilled enough to become Animagi our fifth year at Hogwarts! Don't let him do this! Don't let him throw all that away!"

But the Lily of memory couldn't hear him either. She headed toward the fireplace. "I'll go talk to Peter," she offered.

Amelia meanwhile circled the older Sirius, who was still desperately trying to change the actions of his memory.

"Azkaban makes a person relive their worst memories. Huh. No wonder everyone goes mad in here." She watched the Azkaban-Sirius pleading with ghosts that couldn't hear him. "So you _weren't_ the Secret-Keeper?" she asked. But she was as separate from Azkaban-Sirius as he was from the figures in his memory and he couldn't hear her.

"I knew Remus was a werewolf. I think most of the Order knew, but . . . you never told us you were Animagi. You, James, and Peter? You aren't registered. Why didn't you register? Unless . . . oh, you didn't. Oh, but you would. You _were_ _always_ sneaking out. And you were cocky and arrogant and foolish enough to think running around with Remus on full moon nights was a great idea. That's why you became Animagi, isn't it? To cavort around the grounds with a werewolf?" Amelia threw up her hands. "You are an idiot!" She sighed.

Amelia watched the memory play out. Watched Azkaban-Sirius make increasingly desperate pleas in an attempt to change the past. Watched Lily use Floo Powder to converse with Peter before the latter agreed to become the Potters' Secret-Keeper.

"You weren't the Secret-Keeper," Amelia said in shock. "You . . . couldn't have betrayed them."

Azkaban-Sirius collapsed to his knees and the scene dissolved.

It reformed on an Order of the Phoenix meeting. Amelia herself was present in the memory. Legilimens-Amelia gasped in realization. They were discussing the current state of the opposition – and briefly mentioned the disappearance of Regulus Black. Because she knew to pay attention she saw the devastation that crossed Sirius' face before he squashed it down and shrugged it off.

The scene dissolved again.

Amelia stood on a Muggle street. Two wizards were there as well. Sirius Black looked furious, Peter Pettigrew looked frightened.

"Lily and James, Sirius? How could you?" Peter cried, trembling.

Shock flitted across Sirius' face, quickly replaced by fury. Sirius went for his wand. "You –"

If Amelia hadn't been watching closely, she never would have seen it. Sirius grabbed for his wand – but Peter, the hopeless duelist, was quicker. Sirius did not have his wand out when the street blew. And Peter – he cried out and shrank into his robes. There was blood everywhere – and a rat scampering away to drop into the crater that reached down to the sewer. Just another rat.

"Peter was the traitor," Amelia whispered. "He was the one that killed them. And you – he set you up. He – he received the Order of Merlin, First Class. For betraying his friends! And faking his death. Merlin. Peter's _alive_. What a mess."

Sirius stood there, staring at the milling rats with an expression that was somehow simultaneously intent and blank. He seemed oblivious to the Muggles screaming around him, to the bodies sprawled on the blasted street. He seemed to stand there motionless for an eternity. But slowly, something in his expression changed. The shock and the anger dwindled into a kind of ragged loss. He exhaled in a short burst, then again, almost like a hiccup. Before long Sirius was laughing, a harsh, hysterical laughter born of madness and grief.

Amelia honestly couldn't blame him. She wanted to have some hysterics of her own. She broke off the connection, fleeing the haunting memories to the cold solidity of his cell in Azkaban.


	11. Chapter 11

Amelia sat in the middle of Sirius' cell, staring at nothing as she tried to organize her thoughts.

_How could we all have been so wrong?_

But Amelia could see the answer. Because this was James and Sirius, the ringleaders of their little group at Hogwarts, always getting into trouble, yet always seeming to be getting away with far more than they were ever caught doing. They were _canny _is what they were. Sirius _was_ the obvious choice. They were always so inseparable. Which made Sirius' plan of the decoy so seemingly brilliant. The Death Eaters would all have come after _him_, and ignore Peter completely. But if – if _Peter_ was the traitor, it would have resulted in disaster.

It _fit_. Peter, the fumbling, nervous, hanger-on. Peter, who never would have been in the Order were it not for his close friendship with James, Sirius and Remus. Peter, who looked for someone to protect him. It fit ever so much better than James' best friend, Sirius I-hate-my-pureblood-Slytherin-family Black.

Amelia gasped for breath. She was crying.

_How could we have missed it?_

All the misdirection. Laid down to trick and trip the Death Eaters . . . and it was their friends who were caught in the trap instead.

Six years. Six years of questions, of pain and anger and not understanding. And it was all a lie. Sirius was innocent. Her _friend_ was innocent.

And there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

No proof. _Everyone_ who knew had _known_ Sirius was the Secret-Keeper. Everyone thought Peter was dead, and there was no way to find him. One rat? Among the thousands lurking in sewers and basements all across Britain? That's assuming he was even still in the country!

And what could Sirius even say? _Peter Pettigrew is an Animagus. How do I know he's an Animagus? Well, I helped him. _Because Peter could never have become an Animagus without James and Sirius helping him._ No he isn't registered. I'm also an Animagus. I've been one for – _twelve? – _years now. No, I'm not registered either. Yes, I know it is illegal. I did it to help my friend! Er – he's a werewolf. We all turned into Animagi to hang out with a dangerous werewolf. What can I say? We were teenage hooligans_.

A slightly hysterical laugh escaped from Amelia's throat. She clamped a hand over her mouth. _He's innocent and there's nothing I can do. _Amelia thought she was all cried out, but more tears came. They were all dead. Her friends from Hogwarts. Frannie, Mary, Marlene, Lily. Her friends from the Order had fared even worse. Fabian, Edgar, Benjy, Dorcas – Alice and Frank. And now this. Instead of James dead, Peter dead, and Sirius a traitor it turned out to be James dead, Peter a traitor, and Sirius, imprisoned but innocent. The very information that could prove his innocence also condemned him.

"Sirius," she called softly, shaking his shoulder. "Sirius, wake up. I want to talk to you." He didn't respond, so Amelia called louder. "Sirius!" But he didn't wake up. "Oh, Circe, no. Dammit!" How long had she been here? A few hours at least? And he had yet to stir once. "Dammit," she repeated. "Not now!"

She looked around for anything that might help. By the cell door was an untouched tray of food. What did she know about Azkaban? Aside from the dementors and that everyone went mad? People got quiet and stopped eating towards the end.

"Oh – oh, no." Sirius wasn't asleep, or even unconscious. He was trapped. Trapped within his own mind. Amelia swore colorfully.

"It's not so surprising really," she muttered. "Six years with the dementors and memories like those?" She frantically patted her pockets. There had to be _something _she could do. All she had was a handkerchief, a bag with a trowel, and – a candy bar. Chocolate. Bless Halloween. She hurriedly unwrapped the chocolate bar, broke off a small piece, and placed it on Sirius' tongue.

"Come on, come on," she whispered, watching the chocolate slowly melt. She fed him another piece, and another, but still he didn't respond. "Dammit!" She sighed. "Fine, I'll go back in." Pulling up his eyelids again, she whispered, "_Legimens!"_ This time when the cell swam around her, Amelia was not surprised.

She gasped when she saw the scene in Sirius' memory. A cottage she had just seen in another memory – and so recently in life. The gate wasn't rusted, the hedge was still neat, the lawn wasn't overgrown, but rubble already lay scattered in the yard. The Potters' house was unmistakable. As was the large figure standing in front holding a small bundle delicately in his enormous hands.

_Harry._ Hagrid carried the baby boy away from his ruined home.

Amelia felt a lump rise in her throat. If she went into the house – she would see them – lying there – dead –

With a roar, Sirius' motorbike dropped down on the path. He was ashen and wide-eyed as he took in the destruction of the house. He was shaking his head in denial and he was unsteady as he walked over to Hagrid.

"It's true?" he asked in a shaky voice.

"I know ye were close to them," Hagrid said as gently as someone his size could. "He must'a come fer 'em last night. They went together, though. They woulda wanted that. Harry survived. They'd'a been glad fer that, too."

Sirius stood there, white and trembling, staring at Hagrid without comprehension. He shook his head and his gaze focused on Harry. His face cleared slightly and softened a bit as he looked at his godson. "Give Harry to me, Hagrid. I – I'm his godfather. I'll look after him now that – that they're – gone."

But Hagrid shook his head. "I can't do that. Dumbledore says Harry is going ter go ter his aunt an' uncle."

Sirius blinked. "The Dursleys? Harry is going to the Dursleys? But they don't like magic! They never got along with James and Lily! How can Harry live with _them_?"

"It isn't fer me to decide. Dumbledore says bring him to his aunt an' uncle's an' that's what I'm going ter do," Hagrid said firmly.

Sirius opened his mouth as if to argue further but stopped. "Alright. You can take my motorbike to take Harry there. I won't need it anymore."

"That'll be a mite useful I think. Thanks," Hagrid told him.

But Sirius was no longer looking at Hagrid; he was instead looking past him, his eyes locked on the doorway.

"I'm sorry," Hagrid said. "Ye couldn't've found nicer folks than them."

Sirius nodded and Hagrid strode over to the bike. Sirius' parting of "good luck" was lost in the roar as the bike rose into the sky.

In the sudden silence, Sirius stood transfixed, rooted in place. After a long moment he took a stumbling step forward, then another, making his way to the door of the cottage. He walked stiffly, as if in a daze, but he collapsed in the hallway beside the body of his best friend.

"I did this," he whispered brokenly. "I did this." And Amelia watched Sirius change. Now he was the Sirius who lay in Azkaban, trapped in his own worst nightmares. "I did this."

She had to break him out of this. If she didn't, he would die, and Amelia couldn't let him die. There had been too much death already. She couldn't lose anyone else.

Amelia withdrew from Sirius' mind to feed him more chocolate. She had no way of knowing if it was helping or not. She returned to find Sirius still trapped in the Potters' hallway, beside James.

"This is my fault. I killed you. I killed you and I killed Lily. My fault. All my fault. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I did this. I killed you. I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

"No it isn't."

"What?" Amelia was astonished when Sirius looked up at her.

She swallowed nervously. "This isn't your fault. This – this is because of Peter, not you. You didn't do this."

"This happened because of _me!"_ he wailed.

"No. This happened because someone you and James and Lily – and all of us – trusted betrayed that trust."

"He couldn't have done this if _I_ hadn't convinced James and Lily to use Peter instead. Wormtail. He _is_ a worm. He's a lying, little, treacherous _rat!_ And I _let_ him do this!"

"No," she argued. "No," she repeated softly. "This isn't your fault. James wouldn't want you to blame yourself. Then Peter wins again."

Sirius looked at her with bloodshot eyes. "James is dead."

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Lily is dead. Reggie. Benjy. Gideon and Fabian. They're all dead. How many did he betray? How many died because Wormtail sold them out to Voldemort?"

"I – I don't know." She hadn't thought about it. She determinedly avoided looking at the staircase. Up the stairs lay the nursery, empty now, save for Lily's body beneath a ruined roof.

"What about Edgar? Caradoc? Dorcas? Mary? Are you dead Amelia? Did he kill you too?" Sirius demanded.

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "I'm not dead." But she could have been. She could have died on more than one occasion. Or worse. The memory of the vacant expressions on Alice and Frank's faces haunted her.

"Why am I still here? I let them _die_. I let him _kill_ them."

"No. You are innocent. It wasn't you. It was Peter." _Please, please understand. If you don't – if you won't – then _I_ will have failed._

"Peter. Wormtail. I convinced James and Lily to put their lives in his hands. I convinced them to put _their son's _life in his hands. I failed them all," Sirius said morosely.

"Dammit, Sirius!" she exploded. "You didn't fail! The only mistake you made was putting your trust in the wrong person! That isn't your fault! You _didn't fail!_ You did not betray them. You did not kill them. You did not fail them! And their son yet lives."

"Harry? Ha-have you – seen him?" Sirius asked tentatively.

_At least I broke him out of one rut. _"Yes, I have seen him. He turned seven a few months ago, and he's the spitting image of James. Except for his eyes. He has Lily's eyes." Amelia left out the part where the Dursleys seemed to have no intention of ever telling the boy of his magical heritage. They'd have no choice in a few years. When Harry neared his eleventh birthday she had no doubt that Hogwarts would be sending him a letter.

His aunt and uncle could keep him ignorant all they wanted, but there was no denying the boy was a wizard. And for all the Dursleys' anti-magic mania, as long as Amelia blended in with the Muggles around her, they took no notice of the woman passing them on the street.

"I'm his godfather," Sirius said.

"Yes, and Alice is his godmother." As soon as the words left her mouth, Amelia wished she could take them back.

"How is Alice?" asked Sirius. "And Frank? They had a son Harry's age – Neville, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Amelia answered. "They're both still alive." She left it at that. She couldn't tell him. She _couldn't_.

"Remus?"

"He's still around. I haven't seen him in a while," Amelia admitted. "He's getting by. You know how it is with wizards and werewolves."

Sirius nodded, unsurprised. He looked at her thoughtfully.

"Why are you here?" he asked, pulling himself off the floor, finally.

She answered with the first thing that came out of her mouth. "I couldn't let you die," she said truthfully. She had her answers already. If that was really all she was after, she could have left by now. So many had died. She wouldn't let another one slip away.

Sirius studied her, a glimmer of something in his eyes. He stepped forward and Amelia didn't recognize his intentions until just before their lips met. She was too surprised to pull away at first. She found herself melting into the kiss instead. Sirius leaned closer and Amelia pulled away, reason returning like a rush of cold water.

"I-I'm – I'm sorry," she stammered, face flushed. "I shouldn't be here. I h-have to go." She bolted toward the cottage door and paused outside, trying to compose herself. She hastily withdrew from his mind.

On the cot, Sirius was stirring. With a swish of her wand, Amelia banished her soundproofing spell. She then tucked her wand up her sleeve and transformed back into an owl. The remainder of the unwrapped chocolate was left on the edge of the bed.

It was simpler to compose herself as an owl, her emotions less complex. Amelia perched on the foot of the bed, motionless. When Sirius opened his eyes and saw the owl in his cell, he was taken aback. He blinked and shook his head repeatedly. Amelia fluttered her wings. Sirius' gaze darted from the chocolate to the owl and back in disbelief. Confusion was writ on his face when neither disappeared.

Amelia clacked her beak softly and flew up to the window.

Sirius looked up at her, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You were just as broken as me, weren't you?" he asked.

Memory returned.

Amelia fled into the grey mist.


	12. Chapter 12

Amelia turned a corner to find Alastor Moody leaning against the wall of the corridor. The last three years had not been kind to him. He had accumulated a few more scars and lost an eye.

"I heard you're back," he said, his electric blue replacement eye spinning around, taking in her appearance, before rolling into the back of his head and then spinning forward again.

"You heard wrong," she replied calmly. She should have realized she wouldn't be able to come to the Ministry without talking to Alastor. As much as she had tried to avoid him, he was not the type to be deterred.

"Really? 'Cause I never did peg you for a quitter. You never were the givin' up type, as I remember."

"I didn't give up. I walked away." She made to walk past him, but Alastor stuck out his wooden leg to block her path. He'd also evidently lost a foot; he'd had two the last time she had seen him. Amelia scowled at him.

"Nice claws."

Moody nodded to her, tapping his wooden, clawed foot once in acknowledgment. "Heard you were an Animagus now."

"At least some of your information is correct," she said flatly. He was good. She had only just registered as an Animagus. Very few people knew yet. It figured Alastor would be one of the few.

"You were a good Auror even before you could disguise yourself as an owl," Moody continued. "The Auror Department still has a spot for you. It's been there since you _walked away._"

"I'm not coming back," Amelia insisted.

"These young'uns don't fully understand what it is they're up against. You did."

"I'm not coming back," she repeated.

"I understand you took the Longbottoms hard, but you are needed here."

"Everything's quiet now. I'm _not _needed. Your 'young'uns' can handle this stuff fine; Voldemort's gone. His followers are either dead, imprisoned, or trying so hard to pretend they never knew him that they aren't likely to cause trouble. It's been over four years now he's gone." Amelia crossed her arms. This was exactly why she hadn't been back to the Ministry. If she hadn't needed to register her Animagus form, she wouldn't have returned at all.

"And it has been over three years now _you've_ been gone. How long you plan on hiding?"

"I'm not hiding," she retorted. "I'm sure the Ministry knows exactly where I am."

"Yeah, seems you're living with Muggles these days."

"And?" she said archly. "My father was a Muggle, my brother is a Muggle, and my mother spends most of her time pretending to be a Muggle."

"You are a witch and one of our best Aurors – "

"Well, I'm not an Auror anyone!"

"It never leaves you!" he insisted. "Constant vigilance! It isn't the sort of thing you can just walk away from!"

"No?" she said sourly, losing her patience. "_Watch_ me." Amelia turned on her heel and marched off. There was more than one way out of this place, after all.

* * *

"Told you this wasn't the sort of thing that you could leave behind," a voice said behind her.

Amelia turned to see Alastor, looking a bit the worse for wear. "No, you said I couldn't walk away from being an Auror; you said nothing about the Order. We had already disbanded by the time I left. And you retired."

"I did no such thing!" Moody growled.

"Ah, that's right. They retired you."

"I'm no sheep to be put out to pasture!"

"No, you are a crazy old wizard who thinks dark wizards are lurking in every shadow."

"There are!" Amelia raised an eyebrow. Moody huffed. "Sometimes," he grumbled.

"That's what I thought. Smash any carriage clocks lately? Oh, right, you couldn't. Mr. Constant Vigilance was caught off guard by two second-rate wizards. I wouldn't have figured you to be surprised by a pair of supposedly dead wizards. You're getting old, Alastor. Old and sloppy."

Moody huffed again. "Don't I know it. It was never the same after you left the unit, Amelia. You weren't the only one left broken. You just never tried to fix the pieces."

"You lost a few pieces yourself there."

Moody laughed. It was a dark, harsh laugh that could send more timid people running. Amelia just laughed back and let him embrace her.

"It is good to see you back, Amelia," he said. "It really is. Although it seems the whole country is going to hell again. Dead wizards are back, fugitive wizards are not guilty, and certain Ministry wizards prefer to believe in a conspiracy even _I_ would find farfetched instead of facing the truth."

"Just another day," Amelia shrugged.

"Damn did I miss you!" Moody laughed again. "I want to introduce you to your replacement." He motioned to the pink-haired witch standing behind him who proceeded to threaten Moody with her wand. "Don't say it, Alastor."

"Yes, Amelia, this is Don't-Call-Me-Nymphadora Tonks, who would rather her first name was never spoken again. Tonks, meet Amelia Zeraff."

"Nice to meet you," the pink-haired witch said. "And I mean it! I don't ever want to be called by my first name! Only a fool would name her child that."

"Tonks . . . why does that name sound familiar?" Amelia asked.

"Uh-ho! You have forgotten a name?" Moody challenged. "Ha! Knew you would forget one eventually! I don't see how you could have forgotten this one though. Andromeda Black caused quite a stir when she married Ted Tonks. Not a single magical relative in his bloodline. Quite a stir, indeed. I believe you are acquainted with her cousin, though, are you not?"

Amelia smiled. "Would that be the, uh, 'fugitive wizard who isn't guilty'? Yeah, I know him. Knew him before, and I know him now. And considering where we all are, I would have to say you know him too."

Moody's blue eye spun around, taking in their surroundings. "Yes, well, er, this place certainly has, er, character."

"Have you met Mrs. Black yet?" Amelia asked innocently.

Moody grimaced and Tonks flushed. "I tripped over the umbrella stand," the young woman admitted.

"She was always doing that, wasn't she?" Sirius asked.

"Clumsy as anything, but such a personality." Amelia sighed. "I think I might have liked to see her as an Auror. There is something genuinely personable about her."

"I'm sure the Aurors would probably take you back, if you were really as good as Alastor reckons you were," Sirius offered.

"I don't want to go back," Amelia said quietly, pulling away from her memory-self. "It could never be the same." She scoffed. "And considering the Ministry morons last year, I'm glad I never went back. Dumbledore is . . ." she swallowed hard ". . . was . . . ten times the wizard Fudge will be. I just –" Amelia sighed. "I just wish things could have been different."

"A decade and a half of peace not agree with you?"

"Peace? There was nothing _peaceful_ about that time!" she snapped. "Everyone and everything I knew and cared about was gone! My best friends – Frannie, dead – Alice, in St. Mungo's, probably for good. Lily, James, Marlene – I couldn't stand it! And the Muggles around me, blissfully ignorant, with their friends, and their children, and their friends' children, getting together for lunches and weekends and birthdays – all the things I will never have! How could I befriend those people when I couldn't tell them about myself? The people I'd lost? I couldn't even tell them where I went to school!" Amelia screamed. "You go to Hogwarts and you are next to incapable of dealing with Muggles instead of magic!"

Sirius looked taken aback by her outburst.

"Geography! Calculus! Politics! _Economics! _If it wasn't for William and my mother, I never would have known _any_ of it! All of my wizarding friends were gone and there was a Statute of Secrecy and two decades worth of magic between me and the Muggles! I hated it! Why do you think I developed the more obscure, difficult magic – Legilimency, Animagus? I had nothing else to do! It was either that or go mad! Peace? More like isolation!"

Grey mists swirled around them, carrying scenes of Muggles to replace the memory of Grimmauld Place.

A trio of teenaged girls scurried down a street, shopping bags in hand, giggling. _"Did you see her at the show last night?" _

"_Yes!" _

"_Wasn't her dress so posh?"_

"_I know!"_

A mother scolding her son. _"Behave! Or I won't let you go sleepover with Gregory!"_

Couples walking hand in hand out of a theatre.

Women sitting outside a café, chatting amiably, and passing around pictures. _"Oh, isn't she just the cutest thing!"_

"_Isn't she? Katherine says she'll be grateful when Molly finally starts sleeping through the night though. She was napping when I popped in for a visit, which my sister assures me is the only reason I can't wait to have one of my own."_

"_Oooh! And what did Ben have to say on that subject?"_

"_He said we can try!"_

"_Ooooh! I'm so happy for you!"_

A pair of men in business suits. _"Did you hear what the Soviets are doing?"_

"_It's unbelievable! After all that nonsense with the Yankees!"_

Adolescents bent over tables, whispering and smiling and giggling.

A mother and her daughter. _"_What _are you reading, Susan? Vampires? What have I told you about reading that nonsense?"_

"_But I _like _reading this!"_

"_You'll never get accepted to a good university if you keep wasting your time with these ridiculous books!"_

"Ridiculous? Vampires? Damn, Amelia, Muggles are crazy wankers," Sirius said, breaking the flow of images. The mists settled around them.

Amelia sighed. "I know I am not the only person who lost a great deal, but . . . "

"You were as broken as me," Sirius said flatly.

Amelia turned away. Her shoulders slumped as she admitted, "Yes. I tried. But I could never move past it."

The grey mist broke over them.

* * *

"Yes, I know Mum turns sixty-five this year. I will help you plan the party. Huh?" There was a tapping at the window. "Oh, hold on a minute, Will, my newspaper's here."

Amelia tucked the phone under her ear and opened the kitchen window. An owl flew in, a newspaper clamped in its beak. It dropped the paper on the table and perched itself on the back of a chair. "Yes, Will, I'm still here," Amelia said distractedly as she rummaged in the back of a drawer for a bag of small bronze coins. She dropped a few Knuts into the small leather pouch tied to the owl's leg. With a clack of its beak, the owl flew back out the window.

"I _am_ listening. I will book the room." Amelia unrolled the newspaper. "So you finally settled on a cater – "

The phone dropped to the floor with a _clunk_. On the other end a faint voice called her name in alarm, growing more agitated when she didn't respond.

The _Daily Prophet_ dropped from nerveless fingers.

Amelia trembled as she bent down to retrieve the phone. "I'm sorry, Will, I'll have to call you back." She hung the phone up in its cradle. The headline hadn't changed. There was the picture of Sirius that kept appearing in the _Prophet_. The words, though – the words were chilling. When he was found – the dementors would administer their Kiss. The Ministry had given their permission.

Her wand dropped out of her sleeve and she set fire to the paper. It was a futile gesture. It wouldn't change the Ministry's decision. It wouldn't help Sirius. It wouldn't change the fact she didn't know how to help him. Or even find him.

"There was nothing I could do," she told Sirius forlornly. "I spent some time up at Hogwarts, but I could never find you. And even if I had, I had no idea what I could do to help you."

"I didn't exactly have much of a plan myself," Sirius admitted. "I reckon there wasn't much you could have done anyway. I, er, wasn't really being, er, _reasonable_ at the time. I was more than a bit obsessed."

Amelia choked out a laugh. It sounded strangled. "I was just depressed."

Grey swirled. Images flickered around them. Classrooms and corridors at Hogwarts. The streets of London. Faces of people Amelia had met. Thick texts on magic. Newspapers, of both the mundane Muggle and moving Wizarding varieties. Headlines could be read through the mist. Things like German walls and politics mixed with celebrities and waving witches and images of the Dark Mark that appeared at the Quidditch World Cup.

The swirl shattered with a scream.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N I realized I haven't done a disclaimer yet, and since this chapter heavily overlaps DH, now is as good a time as any. **I do not own Harry Potter**. (I only wish I did.) Amelia is mine; everything else belongs to JKR.

Major spoilers for DH ahead. If you haven't read that, you probably shouldn't read this (as much as I want you to). Just so we are clear, this story follows the book, not the movies. (The book was better anyway!)

Please review! I love seeing your thoughts/reactions to my story. Thank you so much!

* * *

Screams echoed in the mist.

"What is that?" Sirius asked.

"I – I don't know," Amelia replied. A cold feeling was growing in the pit of her stomach: something bad was happening, something of enormous magnitude, something that wasn't a memory, something that was, instead, happening in the "real" world, on the other side of the Veil, the side they were trying to get back to. The only other time she had felt like this was when Dumbledore was murdered.

The sounds rippled across the grey landscape, fading in and out like a bad radio connection. Amelia tried to concentrate on the noises, tried to bring them into focus. There were voices, chaotic, overlapping voices, shouting mostly. Some of the voices seemed familiar . . . if Amelia could only focus on them . . . focus . . .

"IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I'LL KILL YOU HARRY!" Ron's voice roared out of the mist.

"_What?"_ Amelia exclaimed. She turned to meet Sirius' equally confusion expression. "Die for _whom_?"

Sirius just shook his head, looking bewildered. "No idea."

More indecipherable shouting and yelling, interspersed with crashes and bangs and screams.

"Sounds like a battlefield," Sirius remarked.

Amelia felt the cold expand abruptly, turning all her limbs to ice. Sirius caught her expression and the blood drained from his face. "No," he said, "it's not possible." He shook his head. "No – you can't really – a _battle?"_

Amelia felt stiff, an icy marble statue. "Harry has been in the middle of all of this since Cassandra Trelawney made that prophecy. And he's a Gryffindor, which means he goes charging into trouble. If it came to a battle, Harry and his friends would be right in the middle of it. And that – that does sound like a battle."

There was a loud explosion that reverberated through the mist, sending Amelia and Sirius reeling. Someone was screaming again. "No! Fred! No!"

The ice moved to her throat. It _couldn't _be Fred Weasley. It _couldn't _be.

The intermittent screaming continued

"HAGRID, NO! HAGRID, COME BACK!"

The curses flung between combatants echoed through like grey, just like the voices. Amelia wrapped her arms tightly around herself and tried not to listen. Trapped in here, unable to do anything, forced to listen as people fought and died and she couldn't _do anything_ –

Someone was shouting for Harry – and Harry was shouting to run – and then things got quiet, which was very unnerving after all the screaming and chaos.

Amelia strained her ears. There, at the edge, was a cold, high, indistinct voice. Then came a hissing. Amelia felt a dark foreboding come over her. She could hear a raspy, gurgling sound that she _knew_ was someone fighting for breath – and losing.

"Look . . . at . . . me . . . " came the weak, almost familiar whisper. She _knew_ the voice, but she couldn't place it. She'd heard too many voices distorted in the mist to place any one. This one, though, whoever this voice belonged to she knew was dead. She didn't know how or why, but this voice had died.

The high, cold, indistinct voice was back, followed by a piercing, horrible silence – and then the crying began. Somewhere, across the mist, people were wailing and shouting and sobbing and Amelia fell to her knees in the mist. All she could think about was how many people she had lost and how many she still _could_ lose. Alastor, Remus, Tonks, Emmeline, the Weasleys . . . they were all in the Order and guaranteed to be on the front lines. What about her Mum? William? Sarah? Heather? How had they fared in the time she'd been stranded here?

Without warning the mist swirled around them.

The mist was still there, but now it seemed to be overlaid with – a park? There were shadows in the mist: trees and bushes and what appeared to be two children on swings. The voices were still indistinct but there were two girls, one was shrieking and one was giggling and Amelia thought she heard the name "Lily."

A boy's voice joined in.

". . . nothing wrong with that. My mum's one and I'm a wizard."

"Wizard!" the shrieking girl shrieked. "_I _know who _you_ are! You're that Snape boy! They live down Spinner's End by the river."

_Snape?_ How were they in Severus' memory?

The voices continued, gradually becoming more defined. Lily and Severus, discussing magic and Hogwarts and dementors. The third voice belonged to a "Tuney," who could only be Lily' older sister Petunia.

The mist swirled again, and now the scene was clearer, more familiar: Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, giving way to the Hogwarts Express. Petunia called Lily a freak, upsetting the young witch. Lily and Severus met James and Sirius, as Amelia had heard in the mist back in the beginning.

The landscape switched to the Great Hall and the Sorting. The scene changed before Amelia could hear her own name called.

Now Severus and Lily were in a courtyard at Hogwarts, arguing about their choices in friends. Severus insinuated Remus was a werewolf, for which Lily rebuked him. Lily called James a toerag again, before calling Severus' Slytherin friends evil.

The scene dissolved into that day on the lawn during OWLs week when James and Sirius ambushed Severus and the besieged, humiliated boy called his Gryffindor friend a Mudblood.

The scene dissolved again. With each memory, everything became sharper, clearer. Lily stood with her arms folded in front of a portrait of a plump woman and refused to accept her friend's apology.

This time when the scene dissolved it took longer to reform again. There seemed to be murky shapes in the mist – but then it became a cold, dark hilltop, the leafless trees rustling in the wind. Amelia spotted Severus, anxious and fearful, his wand gripped tightly in his hand. And – was there someone else? In the shadows?

There was a blinding jet of white light like lightning and Severus dropped to his knees, his wand gone from his hand.

"Don't kill me!"

"That was not my intention."

Dumbledore stood over Severus, his robes whipping in the wind, his face lit uncannily by his wand. "Well, Severus? What message does lord Voldemort have for me?"

"No – no message – I'm here on my own account!"

Amelia listened in shock as Severus spoke of the prophecy, of Voldemort's intentions for the Potters. Dumbledore was colder and harsher than she had ever seen him before, but Severus persisted. "Hide them all, then," the desperate Death Eater croaked. "Keep her – them – safe. Please."

Amelia stood transfixed as Severus promised to do anything to protect Lily – and by extension James and Harry.

_But – this – that doesn't make any sense – _

Didn't it?

The stream of memories continued. Severus, in Dumbledore's office, looking empty and tortured as he and the Headmaster discussed Lily's death.

"Her boy survives," Dumbledore said. Severus' head jerked. "Her son lives," Dumbledore continued. "He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans' eyes, I am sure?"

"DON'T!" Severus bellowed in pain. "Gone . . . dead . . . "

"Is this remorse Severus?"

"I wish . . . I wish _I _were dead . . . "

Amelia heard a sharp intake of breath, reminding her of her companion. She glanced over at Sirius who was watching with wide, astonished eyes.

Dumbledore asked Severus to protect Lily's son. Not Harry Potter. Lily's son. A lump was rising in Amelia throat.

"Very well," Severus finally agreed. "Very well. But never – never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear . . . especially Potter's son . . . I want your word!"

"My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?" Dumbledore asked with a sigh, looking down on the anguished man. Amelia felt a tear roll down her cheek. "If you insist . . . "

The mist continued to reform as more tears fell, dripping off her chin. Severus and Dumbledore were talking, discussing Harry and Quirrell and Karkaroff, but Amelia wasn't listening because she _knew_. She _knew_ that Severus Snape was dead.

The mists reformed again on Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore sat at his desk, his right hand burned and blackened. Severus did his best to call the silver-haired wizard an idiot without actually saying that word. Amelia listened as the Potions Master informed Dumbledore that he only had a year to live – and Dumbledore didn't seem to care.

"Well, really, this makes matters much more straightforward. I refer to the plan Lord Voldemort is revolving around me. His plan to have the poor Malfoy boy murder me."

Amelia was locked in place, too much in shock to be able to even think of moving as she listened to the calm discussion of Voldemort's plans.

"Are you intending to let him kill you?" Severus asked with raised eyebrows.

"Certainly not," Dumbledore replied. "_You_ must kill me."

The world dropped from beneath Amelia's feet. There was a buzzing in her ears and their voices seemed to come from a great distance away.

"If you don't mind dying, why not let Draco do it?"

"That boy's soul is not yet so damaged. I would not have it ripped apart on my account."

"And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?"

The mist was in her head again, making everything distant and blurry and unreal. She couldn't focus. Everything was coming too fast.

"I prefer not to put all of my secrets in one basket, particularly not a basket that spends so much time dangling on the arm of Lord Voldemort."

"Which I do on your orders!"

"And you do it extremely well. Do not think I underestimate the constant danger in which you place yourself, Severus. To give Voldemort what appears to be valuable information while withholding the essentials is a job I would entrust to nobody but you."

"Yet you confide much more in a boy who is incapable of Occlumency, whose magic is mediocre, and who has a direct connection into the Dark Lord's mind!"

This couldn't be happening. She couldn't be hearing this.

"After you have killed me, Severus – "

"You refuse to tell me everything, yet you expect that small service of me! You take a great deal for granted, Dumbledore! Perhaps I have changed my mind!"

"You gave me your word, Severus."

Amelia could hardly see through her tears as everything crumbled. But the memories weren't finished and the worst was still to come.

"So the boy . . . the boy must die?"

"And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus."

The buzzing reached a new level and she almost missed it. The silver doe. Lily. Lily was Severus's patronus. _Oh, Circe – _

"After all this time?"

"Always."

Amelia gasped and the tears rolled faster.

Severus was talking to a portrait of Dumbledore now. The words penetrated her haze though she fought them. These words weren't as painful. Moving Harry from the Dursleys. Decoys. Mundungus Fletcher. Polyjuice Potion.

Broomsticks on a clear, dark night. Death Eaters flew after Remus and Harry. Was it really Harry? No, it couldn't be. The Order would never pair Harry with Remus as his only protector. It had to be a Polyjuice Harry. A Death Eater raised a wand toward Remus – Severus' spell went awry, hitting the side of Harry's head instead of the Death Eater's hand.

Severus was crying in – Grimmauld Place? Amelia didn't think she had ever seen Severus cry before. He was crying over a picture of the Potters, which he ripped in two, keeping the half with Lily's laughing smile.

Dumbledore's office again. Only now it was – Severus' office? Phineas Nigellus called him "Headmaster." How had Dumbledore been replaced by the one who killed him?

Severus removed a sword from where it had been hidden behind Dumbledore's portrait. Why did it need to be given to Harry? And why were Harry and Hermione – and presumably Ron – in the Forest of Dean? How much time had passed? Had they graduated Hogwarts already?

". . . they may not take kindly to your appearance after George Weasley's mishap – " the portrait cautioned the former Potions Master.

_What mishap? _Had George been the Polyjuice Harry with Remus on the broom?

Severus walked to the door – and Amelia saw, for an instant, someone else in the room. There was Severus, in his memory; Sirius and herself through the Veil; and bridging the gap – Harry. He did not seem to have grown much, but his face – he had aged. There was a blank expression, but it could not disguise the haunted pain in his eyes. The boy knew he would have to die. How many had he seen die in the battle? Had he seen Severus' death? How could he have Severus' memories in a Pensieve?

Amelia forced her shaky legs to move. She looked into Harry's eyes. The boy didn't see her, but she saw – she saw –

A snake in a floating bubble attacked Severus. As he fell, a cold, high voice said, "I regret it," without a trace of emotion for its iciness. Harry crept up to the dying man, hands feebly pressed to the gaping wounds in his throat. That terrible rasping, gurgling.

"Take . . . it . . . take . . . it . . . "

A silvery blue substance gushed from his eyes, his mouth, his nose – and there was Hermione conjuring a flask for Harry to store Severus' memories.

"Look . . . at . . . me . . . " Severus whispered. And as he looked into Harry's eyes – Lily's eyes – a peace came over the former Death Eater – and Amelia watched the last flicker of life leave him.

The memory jumped further back – she saw the Great Hall. The Weasleys crowded around a body, Molly across the chest, Arthur stroking his wife's hair as he cried, one of the twins kneeling by the head of his brother. The living twin was missing an ear – George. It had been Fred Weasley, then. Percy was there. He had reconciled with his family? Bill stood near him, beside the Beauxbatons girl from the Triwizard Tournament. The cluster of people shifted, revealing two more bodies, pale and still beneath the enchanted sky –

Amelia pulled away, unable to witness anymore.

Harry left the Pensieve and the mist lost its shape, the greyness spilling over them.


	14. Chapter 14

Sorry this is late. The end of the year is always more of a hectic mess than you think it will be.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, those movies would have been less awful (I hope).

* * *

"What was that?"

Amelia looked up through her tears. "Severus is dead. Murdered. By Voldemort. As he lay dying he gave Harry his memories so that the boy would know of Dumbledore's plans."

Sirius looked shaken. "He served Dumbledore? All along?"

"Ever since Voldemort decided Lily must die, because her son was a threat," she said quietly. It was no wonder Dumbledore trusted Severus. There _was_ an ironclad reason, all along. The truly amazing thing was that Severus had managed to conceal such depth of emotion from Voldemort.

_Oh_. Voldemort didn't understand love. Wasn't that what Dumbledore always said?

Wrong about another one. So many secrets and lies and layers. Love the mother, hate the father – Lily Evans' eyes in James Potter's face. It certainly explained why Severus seemed to hate the boy so. _My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?_

"And . . . Harry?" Sirius' voice was quiet. "Dumbledore knew? That he would have to die?"

Amelia nodded once and squeezed her eyes together, but the images were burned there. The tears, streaking down faces lines with red hair. The two people, who could almost have been asleep –

"They're dead." The voice seemed to belong to someone else. Some other person, who had never lost a friend, who hadn't just lost two more.

"Who's dead?" Sirius' voice caught, as if he knew the images Amelia longed to erase.

"T-tonks. A-and Remus. They died in the battle. As did Fred Weasley." Who else? _Who else?_

Sirius froze. And in that instant, a whisper came through the mist, clear and sharp.

"_I am about to die."_

The mists swirled, pulling at Sirius. Amelia watched him begin to fade into the mist. _I can't lose him too! _She lunged for his hand.

* * *

The forest was dark. Behind the trees, Amelia could see the castle, alight. Though it had been damaged, she would know that castle anywhere. That was Hogwarts, and she was in the Forbidden Forest.

Harry was there. Somehow Amelia could see him, though he stood beneath James' Invisibility Cloak. He looked as he had in Snape's memory, disheveled and haunted. He knew he was about to die. He had his eyes closed, but he opened them and he looked at the people with him.

Harry was solid, but his companions weren't. They were neither ghost nor flesh, less substantial than living bodies, but more than ghosts. Four people surrounded him, all wearing a loving smile.

James was wearing the clothes Amelia had last seen on the body in Sirius' nightmare memory. He was the same height as Harry, his hair as untidy as his son's. His glasses were lopsided, but he smiled at his son.

Lily's smile was wider as she pushed her long hair back and gazed upon her son.

Remus was younger than Amelia had seen him last, in the prime of his life, likely only a few years after they had graduated Hogwarts. He was younger, his hair was darker, and he was happy.

Sirius was younger as well, as young as Remus and James. He stood casually, with his hands in his pockets, a broad grin on his face.

The fifth person wasn't as solid as these four. Tonks was little different than she had last appeared to Amelia, except her hair was purple, there was a ring on her finger, and she was almost entirely transparent, as was she, Amelia realized a start. Where the others appeared more solid than a ghost, Tonks and herself looked _less. _She was unsurprised when her hand passed unhindered through a tree. Harry gave no indication that he saw either her or Tonks, having eyes only for his parents and their two best friends.

"You've been so brave," Lily said.

"You are nearly there," said James. "Very close. We are . . . so proud of you."

"Does it hurt?" Harry blurted out.

"Dying?" Sirius asked. "Not at all. Quicker and easier than falling asleep."

"What?" Amelia cried. "You're not dead!"

But Harry and his four not-ghosts didn't seem to have heard her. Tonks did, though, turning toward her.

"And he will want it to be quick," Remus added. "He wants it over."

"Tonks, what is Merlin's name is going on?" Amelia asked.

The younger woman looked at Amelia with sadness in her eyes. "Harry is going to meet Voldemort in the Forest. He is going to let himself be killed."

"I didn't want you to die," Harry said. "Any of you. I'm sorry – right after you'd had you son . . . Remus, I'm sorry – "

"I am sorry too," Remus replied. "Sorry I will never know him . . . but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life."

"Son?"

Tonks ducked her head, her hair turning pink as she blushed. "We got married, last summer. We have a son, Teddy Tonks, after my . . . father."

"Oh, Tonks, I'm sorry."

Tonks shrugged. "My mother will take care of him. Harry is the godfather. Molly agreed to be the godmother. We would have named you his godmother, but . . . "

"But you thought I was dead."

"You'll stay with me?" Harry asked.

"Until the very end," his father answered.

"They won't be able to see you?"

"We are part of you," Sirius responded. "Invisible to anyone else."

"Is that why they can't see us?"

Tonks nodded. "Harry called for them with the Resurrection Stone, and we two merely tagged along for the ride."

"The Resurrection Stone? Beedle the Bard's Resurrection Stone?" Amelia asked in disbelief.

"Yes, and James had the Invisibility Cloak, and Voldemort is using the Elder Wand, stolen from Dumbledore's tomb. It's why he killed Severus."

"Stay close to me," said Harry.

"Alright, say Beedle the Bard didn't completely make it all up out of thin air, Sirius _wasn't dead_."

"But he was on the other side of the Veil, as was you, as were we. The Resurrection Stone evidently could not tell the difference." As they followed Harry through the Forest, Tonks looked at Amelia, a curious expression on her face. "I wonder what would have happened if the Stone had tried to summon _you_."

"Why should it have been any different?" Amelia replied.

Tonks smiled. "Funny thing about being dead, I can see everything clearly now, all the secrets and the details you can never find alive. I have all the answers to all my questions. It's the choices you make, that make the difference. Lily chose to die for Harry. You chose to enter the Veil to save Sirius. He fell, you dove. Surely you realized the mist responded more to you than to him?"

"It – it did?" Had it? Hadn't it brought them to the things she mentioned? Seemed to pluck the people and place from the surface of her mind? Whereas it hadn't revisited the things Sirius mentioned. "It did. But – " Amelia shook her head. "I don't understand."

"Sirius can't find the way through the maze by himself. Only you can."

Amelia was reeling again. "I – alright."

"If you make it back – could you watch out for Teddy for me? My mum – she – she lost my father, my husband and me. She'll need all the help she can get to get through this." Tonks looked at her with beseeching eyes.

Amelia felt the tears begin to well again. "I can do that." She took a long, deep breath to steady herself. "W-what else did I miss? While we were – gone."

"It's been about two years."

"_Two years?!"_ Amelia exclaimed.

"None of us saw what happened to you, but Dumbledore told us, later, that you had gone after Sirius. The prophecy smashed, and all the Death Eaters who went to the Department of Mysteries were captured except Bellatrix. Voldemort escaped with her after dueling Dumbledore in the atrium and being seen by several Ministry officials, including I'm-an-ass Fudge himself. He finally had to admit Dumbledore was right the whole time. Right before they sacked him." Tonks paused. "Do you know that Dumbledore is dead? Killed by – "

"Snape, yes. On his order. And Snape was killed by Voldemort."

"Yes. That was last June. Snape was Headmaster this past year. The Carrows taught Dark Arts and Muggle Studies."

"Muggle Studies? I thought Charity Burbage taught that."

"She did. Until Voldemort killed her."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this," Tonks began.

"Tell me what?" Amelia asked. A knot of dread unfurled itself. Who else was dead?

"Alastor died."

Amelia felt as though someone had punched her in the gut.

"When we were moving Harry away from his aunt and uncle's. You know about the Polyjuice Potters? Well, we had seven Harry's, each with a different protector. George lost an ear to Snape. And Alastor –Voldemort's curse hit him in the face and he fell off his broom."

"I can't believe Alastor is dead."

Thankfully, she was distracted by two Death Eaters they came upon, Yaxley and Dolohov. Neither could see the group before them and after arguing for a few moments they moved on. Harry followed.

"Dolohov killed Remus," said Tonks. "Bellatrix got me. She's had it in for me for a while. Furious, probably, that I tainted the Black name with werewolf blood. Back in July I injured Rodolphus. That probably inflamed her a bit, too."

_Bellatrix. _For a moment all Amelia could think of was that scene just before she entered the Veil, of Bellatrix casting the curse that caused Sirius to fall –

"Anyway, Rufus Scrimgeour replaced Fudge," Tonks continued. "But he was murdered the day of Bill and Fleur's wedding."

"Fleur?"

"Delacour. From the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Ah. I saw her. In Harry's memory – " _standing next to your body. _Amelia's throat closed on the words, but Tonks saw anyway. With a sad smile, Tonks continued feeding Amelia two years' worth of information.

"Scrimgeour was replaced by Thicknesse, who was Voldemort's Imperiused toady. Who else did you know? Oh. Amelia Bones and Emmeline Vance. They both died last summer."

Two more punches.

"Ha-have you heard anything about my family?" Amelia asked tentatively.

"Alive and as well as can be expected. Heather went to Ravenclaw. One of the advantages to you having spent the interim years among Muggles instead of Aurors is that the Carrows didn't recognize her name as having any connection to the Aurors or the Order. It likely also helped that your brother doesn't have any ties to the magical community and everyone thought you were dead. I believe Heather joined the younger years' branch of Dumbledore's Army, though. Recruitment was high this past year. Nearly three houses worth of students did their absolute best to thwart the Carrows at every turn. It was an, er, _interesting_ school year," Tonks added. "All the students not of age were evacuated from the school, though."

Amelia found she could breathe a little easier.

"Aberforth wasn't particularly happy about everyone coming through his pub. It was the only way in or out of Hogwarts without going through the Death Eaters, so while he grumbled, he didn't try to stop us.

"Harry didn't return to Hogwarts this year. He, Ron, and Hermione holed up in Grimmauld Place, hunting down bits of Voldemort's soul. He sent Remus home to me." Amelia looked at her questioningly and Tonks ducked her head. "Remus . . . was afraid our child would be a werewolf. He isn't. Teddy's a Metamorphmagus," she said proudly.

They stepped out into a clearing, in the middle of which a fire burned, illuminating Voldemort's followers who were assembled, waiting in silence. There was a wide range of emotion visible where some Death Eaters had removed their masks and hoods.

"Amelia . . . " Tonks began. "There is something Sirius should know. About his brother. Regulus wasn't killed for cowardice. He died trying to destroy Voldemort. One of the bits of soul, the Horcrux, Regulus died stealing it. Kreacher was the only one who knew. I'll give SPEW one thing, Harry managed to win over Kreacher."

"That's what a Horcrux is? Part of a soul?" How did a person split their soul? Amelia couldn't understand why anyone would want to. She shivered involuntarily.

Tonks nodded. "It is very dark magic. To make a Horcrux, one must first commit murder. After Harry . . . dies . . . Voldemort will have only one last Horcrux remaining. His snake, Nagini."

"It isn't finished yet?" Amelia exclaimed.

"Three people know the snake must be killed. Ron, Hermione, and . . . Neville."

Amelia stopped mid-step, her foot frozen inches above the ground. As gravity forced her foot to continue its interrupted motion, she stumbled. "Neville? Neville Longbottom? Alice's Neville?"

"Yes," Tonks replied. "He's been organizing Dumbledore's Army. He's become quite the leader, his parent's son."

Amelia found her lips stretching into a smile. _Perhaps it isn't all lost, after all?_

Voldemort was not pleased to learn there was no sign of his rival. "I thought he would come," said Voldemort. "I expected him to come. I was, it seems . . . mistaken."

"You weren't," announced Harry, stuffing his Invisibility Cloak under his robes.

Amelia's heart leapt to her throat as the Resurrection Stone slipped from his fingers and the mists reached out to claim her again.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N** I apologize for the delay. I've been reading everything that _isn't_ Harry Potterand it kept distracting me from working on this story. But I'm still here and I _still_ don't own the material. I'm just playing in JKR's sandbox.

* * *

Amelia was back in the mist. But now she and Sirius weren't alone. The not-ghosts from their brief sojourn in the Forbidden Forest had joined them in the bright greyness.

Sirius had returned to his normal age, but he was pale and stiff as he looked upon his best friend. "James – I – I am so sorry – "

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," James assured him. "Not about my death anyway. I'm sure you should be sorry for a lot of the pranks we pulled, but my death isn't on you, Padfoot."

"But it _is _– I – "

"You did what you thought would protect us," Lily said gently, but firmly. "It is not your fault the tool you suggested was flawed. You didn't know it was a flawed instrument; if you had, you wouldn't have told us to use him instead."

Sirius faltered. "But – I – "

"You made a mistake," Remus told him. "We all did. Even I trusted Peter. And then for twelve years I believed you were a traitor. We all make errors in judgment. You aren't alone in that."

"I told you," Amelia said. "I tried to tell you, all those years ago in Azkaban. It wasn't your fault."

James grinned. "That's a stunt ever _I _would never have dreamed up, Zeraff. The only person to ever sneak _in_to Azkaban. And you, Sirius, the only person to ever break _out_."

"Ah," Lily interrupted. "Correction, Barty Crouch Jr. broke out."

"Nope," James corrected his wife. "Crouch was sprung. Sirius got out all on his own."

"On his own?" Lily repeated with raised eyebrows. "He would not have continued _breathing_ on his own. Amelia is the only reason he didn't die in there. Without her, he could never have broken out."

"Semantics," James dismissed with an airy wave of his hand. Lily jabbed her elbow into her husband's side.

As Amelia felt her lips stretching into a smile, she noticed what lay beyond her friends. A path through the mist, not quite grey, more of a shimmering, pearly color.

"You see it?" Tonks asked.

"What is it?" Amelia replied.

"What do you think it is?" came the response.

"I don't know."

Tonks shifted her weight to one side. "Don't you?"

Amelia looked back to the pearly trail. A gasp escaped her mouth. It _couldn't_ be –

"It is," Lily said.

"Is what?" Sirius asked.

"It's what you've been looking for, isn't it?" said James. "The end of the maze?"

Sirius tried to speak but no words came out.

"Or perhaps you were looking for something else, Sirius?" James continued. "Forgiveness, maybe? Redemption?"

Lily smiled, a loving smile, mirror to the one James was wearing. "Those aren't things you ever needed to seek from anyone but yourself."

"I never blamed you, Padfoot," James said. "You've got to stop blaming yourself."

"Why? I ruin everything I touch!" Sirius exclaimed. "Everyone is dead! Even – even Harry," he continued more quietly. "Harry was the closest thing I ever had to a son. I loved him like a son. Or maybe like a nephew. A father should have been more responsible than me." He shrugged. "It doesn't matter, I suppose. I'm the last Black."

"Right," James said, remembering. "Regulus died trying to weaken Moldywart."

"What?"

"The reason he didn't die when his curse backfired was because he had split his soul into pieces, Horcruxes, separate from himself," Lily explained. "Regulus died trying to destroy one of them."

Tonks looked away then. "The same one Dumbledore was trying to destroy the night he died."

"Is Reggie – "

Remus shook his head. "He went on long ago." Sirius looked stricken. "We are only here now because Harry called us back for a time. Peter passed through a couple of months ago. He hesitated to kill Harry and was himself killed as a result."

"I have nothing left," Sirius said despondently.

"Really?" Lily asked with raised brows. She exchanged glances with Tonks. "Are they always this thick?"

Tonks smiled. "It took him nearly a year to get over all of _his_ nonsensical notions and realize I loved him just the way he was," she said, wrapping her arms firmly around her husband's waist. "Yours wasn't much better, or so I've heard."

James grinned unabashedly. Lily elbowed him again, even as he kissed the top of her head.

Sirius looked bewildered. His gaze darted between James and Remus, looking for an explanation. His two friends smiled at him and looked over to Amelia, who felt her cheeks burning. Sirius looked at her, still confused. "Amelia . . . do you what they are talking about?"

"She went after you, Sirius," Remus began. "In all the commotion of that battle in the Department of Mysteries, she tried to save you when you fell, and didn't let go, even when she could have saved herself and avoided all of this."

"You would have died, Sirius," Lily said quietly. "Though you were alive when you passed through the Veil, you fell. There is no way back from here if you fall. It would have been as if you had died. Amelia is the key to all of this. She jumped. She leapt after you – and she tried to Apparate."

Now Amelia was confused. "But that didn't work," she protested. "I couldn't Apparate, all I did was almost split my skull with pain."

Lily smiled. "It's incomplete."

Amelia blinked blankly.

Tonks smiled now. "You tripped. You tripped while carrying a floating platter. The platter is still there, hanging in mid-air, waiting for you. And I know that because my mother eventually put levitation charms on all the plates in our house. I lost count of how many times I dropped my dinner onto the floor. Because you freely chose to enter the Veil, you could return. But because you tried to Apparate halfway through, it would be easier – you created your own back door, so to speak."

"You – "

Tonks shook her head. "We are dead. The two of you are in-between and can go either way. You can stay here, with us, and continue on. Or you can go back, to the foibles of daily living and – "

She broke off abruptly, a smile curling at the corners of her mouth even as her eyes began to fill. It was Lily who explained, her tears spilling freely down a proud smile. "He's gone back."

"Who?" Sirius asked in confusion.

"Harry," James answered, also crying over his smile. "Moldywart outsmarted himself and left Harry his own back door, if he so chose. And he did. He was met in-between by Albus, who explained a few of the loose ends. The tale hasn't ended just yet, but it will, very soon." Sirius opened his mouth, but James shook his head. "Even if you left now, nothing you did would change this final confrontation – time moves differently here and you would arrive long after it had ended. The battle is thinning the Veil for the moment, so watch, and then decide."

With that, the two pairs of dead witches and wizards pulled out their wands and traced a large square in the mist. The center of the square twisted and contorted as the grey mist developed color.

Amelia stared in shock at the square as it produced an image of Alice. But no – it was her son, Neville. He had scars on his cheeks as he faced Voldemort in defiance, at the head at a large unruly crowd of what could only be the army attempting to defend Hogwarts. Behind Voldemort were his massed followers and a sobbing Hagrid. At the Dark Lord's feet rested the body of Harry.

"You said he was alive!" Sirius exclaimed.

"He is," James affirmed.

"His eyes, Sirius," Amelia realized. They were open, just a crack, allowing Harry to watch as he played dead.

The scene played out in the square like a large television.

"But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy," Voldemort asked Neville, who stood facing him, his empty hands curled in fists.

"So what if I am?" Neville demanded.

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over! Dumbledore's Army!" he shouted in defiance and the crowd behind him cheered.

"Very well. If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan," Voldemort said in a dangerously smooth voice.

Amelia watched horrified as Voldemort renounced the Sorting Hat, set it upon Neville's head and set it afire. People screamed and everything turned into chaos; the window in the mist expanded to compensate.

Hundreds of people stormed the boundaries of the castle, shouting at the tops of their lungs. An undersized giant came around the castle yelling, "HAGGER!"

"That's Grawp," Remus explained, trying to keep a smile off his face. "He is Hagrid's half-brother. Hagrid's been keeping him in the Forbidden Forest."

Voldemort's giants roared and challenged Grawp. Centaurs charged out of the Forest, their arrows targeting the Death Eaters who broke ranks, shouting in surprise. Harry disappeared beneath his Invisibility Cloak as Neville broke the Body-Bind Curse, drew a rubied-handled sword from the Sorting Hat and beheaded Nagini. Amelia recognized Buckbeak among the thestrals attacking the giants' heads. The wizards and witches, both Hogwarts' defenders and Death Eaters, were being forced back into the castle. Curses flew left and right across the entrance hall into the Great Hall.

The thundering reinforcements looked to be the friends and relatives of the students, along with the inhabitants of Hogsmeade. With some amazement, Amelia recognized her mother, Clarissa Zeraff, her face set in determination, among their number. Sirius stared in amazement at Kreacher, in a crowd of cleaver-wielding house-elves, shouting, "Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus! Fight!" The house-elves attacked the only parts of the Death Eaters they could reach – their legs – and added to the tide crashing down over the hopeless Death Eaters.

George Weasley and Lee Jordan slammed Yaxley to the floor, Dolohov fell before Flitwick, and Hagrid unleashed a dose of long overdue revenge, throwing Walden Macnair across the room into the stone wall. Fenrir Greyback was brought down by Neville and Ron, Albus' brother Aberforth Stunned Rookwood, and Arthur and Percy Weasley overpowered pseudo-Minister Thicknesse. Lucius and his wife Narcissa didn't even attempt to fight, either side, instead running through the crowd screaming for their son.

Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, and a blonde girl –

"Luna Lovegood, a Ravenclaw girl in Ginny's year," Tonks explained.

"Lovegood?" Amelia repeated. "Like _Quibbler_ Xenophilius Lovegood?"

"His daughter."

– battled Bellatrix Lestrange. A Killing Curse missed Ginny by an inch, eliciting a ferocious roar.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" Molly Weasley threw off her cloak and shouted the girls out of her way. She waved off the students who ran forward to help her. "_Get back!_ She is mine!"

Bellatrix taunted Molly, threatening her children, which Amelia recognized immediately as a mistake. If there was one thing you should never, _ever_ do, it was to get between a mother and her children.

"You – will – never – touch – our – children – again!" Molly screamed.

Bellatrix laughed. It was the same laugh that had started this, the same exhilarated laugh Sirius had given just before he toppled backward through the Veil. Now, as then, the curse soared beneath the outstretched arm to squarely hit the chest. Only, this time, the curse was struck to kill and there was no one to come to the rescue. Bellatrix's gloating smile froze and she fell, the watching crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed.

Minerva McGonagall, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Horace Slughorn had all been dueling Voldemort; with the Elder Wand, he was their equal. In his fury at Bella's death, all three were blasted backward. He then turned his fury on Molly Weasley, pointing his wand directing at her.

Harry chose that moment to step in. He roared, "_Protego!"_ Voldemort looked around for the source of the Shield Charm and Harry pulled off his father's Invisibility Cloak.

A cheer immediately erupted from the crowd, but the shouts of "He's alive!" and "Harry!" were cut off immediately. The onlookers were afraid. They knew that this would be the final confrontation.


	16. Chapter 16

Sorry again for the delay. I think I may have finally figured out where I want to go with this story. Now if only I could keep from being distracted by all the _other_ stories . . .

(I don't own Harry Potter or related items.)

(This confrontation in the movie-verse was awful.)

;)

* * *

"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry said loudly. In the total silence of the Great Hall, his voice carried like a trumpet call, and Amelia was almost afraid to breathe. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

Voldemort hissed. "Potter doesn't mean that. That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," Harry said simply as Amelia watched the two combatants circled each other. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good . . . "

Voldemort was taut, his red eyes staring, a snake poised to strike. "One of us?" he jeered. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?" Harry asked. Amelia did not know when she had taken Sirius' hand; she wasn't even sure which one of them had reached first. But her grip tightened involuntarily at the mention of Lily. "Accident, when I decided to fight in the graveyard?" Harry continued, the two combatants tracing a circle of death in the middle of the Great Hall, moving sideways in a perfect circle. There was ever so much symbolism attached to circles and somehow it felt appropriate. "Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?"

"_Accidents!"_ Voldemort screamed in fury. Sirius tightened his grip, then, but Voldemort did not move to strike out. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight. You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people – "

"But you did not!"

"– I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

Amelia's breath caught at the public usage of the Dark Lord's proper name, his Muggle name.

"_You dare – "_

"Yes, I dare." Harry was calm. Almost too calm. "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of things you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

"Is it love again?" Voldemort sneered. "Dumbledore's favorite solution, _love_, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him from falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? _Love, _which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter – and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse." That did not seem to be true. There were quite a few people in the crowd who looked ready to run forward at any moment, but neither of the duelists dared look away from the other to see. "So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"

"Just one thing," Harry said, still calm. _What did he know? What final card was there to play?_

"If it is not love that will save you this time, you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"

"I believe both."

Amelia was fixated on the screen of mist, hardly daring to breathe. She saw shock flit across the snakelike face for an instant before Voldemort began to laugh, a humorless, insane laugh that echoed in the otherwise silent Hall.

"You think _you_ know more magic than I do? Than _I_, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh, he dreamed of it, but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."

"You mean he was weak! Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"

"No, he was cleverer than you, a better wizard, a better man."

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"

"You thought you did, but you were wrong."

The crowd stirred at that. Because they didn't know, they hadn't seen, those memories kept locked behind tight black eyes, those eyes that no longer could see.

"_Dumbledore is dead!"_ Voldemort screamed, hurling the words like weapons. "His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return."

"Yes, Dumbledore's dead," said Harry, still so calm, "but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."

"What childish dream is this?" But Voldemort did not strike, intent on learning this knowledge, this weapon Harry claimed was so powerful.

"Severus Snape wasn't yours," Harry announced to the entire assembled bystanders. "Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"

Of course he hadn't. The Patronus Charm required a genuinely happy thought. Rabid fanaticism was not enough. Amelia doubted any of the Death Eaters could cast a Patronus. But Severus hadn't been a Death Eater for a long time.

"Snape's Patronus was a doe, the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized, he asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"

"He desired her, that was all," Voldemort sneered, casting down the possibility of love yet again. "But when she had gone, he agreed there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him – "

"Of course he told you that, but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"

"It matters not!" Voldemort shrieked, refusing to acknowledge that perhaps he might be wrong. A mad cackle of laughter followed. "It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great _love!" _Voldemort mocked.

"Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand! Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy – I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, it did. You're right," Harry replied, not at all perturbed. "But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done . . . Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle . . . "

"What is this?" Harry's lack of reaction to Voldemort's grand revelation shocked the dark wizard more than anything else.

"It's your one last chance, it's all you've got left . . . I've seen what you'll be otherwise. . . .Be a man . . . try . . . Try for some remorse . . . "

Amelia's eyes flicked to Tonks in question. "Remorse would reverse the damage the Horcruxes did to his soul," the younger witch explained.

"You dare – ?" Voldemort said again.

"Yes, I dare, because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle. That wand still isn't working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."

"He killed – "

"Aren't you listening? _Snape never beat Dumbledore!_ Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"

"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand! I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!" he shocked in malicious triumph.

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? _The wand chooses the wizard. . . . _The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance . . . "

Amelia leaned forward, aware of Sirius doing the same beside her.

"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."

_Was?_

Blank shock flickered across Voldemort's face and was gone. "But what does it matter? Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone . . . and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy . . . ."

"But you're too late," Harry replied. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him." _That's it!_ The reason he was so calm. Harry twitched the wand in his hand, and every eye in the Hall settled upon it. It seemed an unremarkable hawthorn wand.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" Harry whispered. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does . . . I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

That, finally, was too much for Voldemort. And as the dawn broke over the enchanted ceiling, two curses shot across the Great Hall of Hogwarts.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

"_Expelliarmus!"_

Like a cannon blast. And golden flames erupted in the exact center of the circle they had been tracing, at the point where the two spells collided. The Elder Wand flew into the air, to be caught with the unerring skill that made Harry the youngest Seeker on a House team in over a century. Voldemort fell to the floor, his own rebounding curse finally killing him.

For a shivering second, there was silence. Then the cheers began and the image faded in upon itself.

The silence in the grey mist continued for a few moments longer.

"It's really over?" Sirius finally asked in a quiet voice.

"Yes," Lily said simply.

"Old Moldywart finally kicked the bucket," James said. "That spell rebounded again, and this time it killed him. And Harry is still alive. Through it all, he survived."

"The Boy Who Lived," Amelia said softly. She didn't know when her eyes had become watery.

Lily nodded. "Yes."

"You don't have much time," Tonks said. "The battle is over, the thinning of the Veil is reversing. You have your door, but it is closing, and the next one will be much harder to find."

Amelia looked to Sirius. "Will you come back?" she asked quietly.

Sirius looked at James, at Lily, and at Remus. "We'll still be here," James said. "But you've still got a life."

"You can't keep punishing yourself," Lily told him. "It wasn't your fault. And it was half a lifetime ago – let go. We don't blame you for any of it. Stop blaming yourself."

"It won't be easy, Padfoot," Remus warned. "But that is life – it lets you know you're alive."

"Give yourself a chance," Tonks added.

Sirius opened and closed his mouth wordlessly a few times, the words not coming out. "I'll see you again?"

"We'll be waiting when it's time," James promised his best friend.

Sirius nodded. "Alright." He took Amelia's hand. "Lead on, Amelia. You've got the key, I can't see a bloody thing in here."

Amelia smiled at him. She looked over at her friends, but they made shooing motions. "Go! Hurry!" Blinking back tears, Amelia nodded and started running toward the pale pearly trail, dragging Sirius along beside her.

The mist slipped closer around them, but Amelia kept her eyes fastened to the thin path, which grew thinner as they ran.

All at once the path dropped out from beneath them and they were falling.


End file.
